LIBRARY 

University  of 

California 

Irvine 


53 
M5 


W53 
v.  1 


CAMBRIDGE: 
ALLEN  AND  FARXHAM,  PRINTERS, 

WIEMISGTOJJ  STREET. 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


THE  following  pages  consist  almost  exclusively  of 
extracts  from  Letters  and  Journals,  with  little  more 
care  expended  upon  their  arrangement  than  is 
necessary  to  make  them  afford  of  themselves  a 
representation  of  the  workings  of  a  mind,  which, 
it  has  been  thought,  might  afford  instruction  to 

some,    and    interest    to    more. 

•  • 
• 

V 

To  his  father's  friends  —  and,  if  he  may  with- 
out impropriety  call  them  •  so,  his  own  also  —  Mr. 
Basil  Montagu,  Mr.  George  Moore,  Sir  James  Scar- 
lett (now  Lord  Abinger),  Doctor  Holland,  Lord 
Jeffrey,  and  the  Rev.  Sydney  Smith,  the  Editor 
takes  this  opportunity  of  returning  his  grateful 
thanks  for  what  remains  to  engage  the  reader's 
attention. 

Upon  the.  valuable  assistance  —  more  especially 
in  connection  with  the  residence  in  India  —  for 


« 

iv  EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 

which  he  has  been  obliged  to  his  brother-in-law, 
Mr.  William  Erskine,  he  feels  that  it  would  be 
impertinent  in  this  place  to  enlarge.  An  acknow- 
ledgment of  the  ready  kindness,  which  placed  much 
interesting  correspondence  at  his  disposal,  would 
have  here  naturally  followed,  but  for  the  event 
which  has  deprived  his  many  attached  friends  of 
the  late  much  esteemed  Mr.  Eichard  Sharp. 

If  the  slight  connecting  narrative  could  bear  the 
weight  of  an  observation,  he  would  remark,  in 
explanation  of  what  may  appear  to  some  as  a  cold 
style  of  expression,  that  he  had  not  determined  to 
prefix  his  name  to  these  pages,  till  they  were  so 
far  advanced  as  to  make  a  subsequent  change  to 
one  more  natural  to  the  relationship,  —  then  first 
avowed,  between  the  writer  and  his  subject, — 
scarcely  worth  while. 


CONTENTS  OF  VOLUME  I. 


CHAPTER  I. 


Birth  —  Parentage  —  Goes  to  School  at  Fortrose  —  Early 
Studies  —  Parts  from  his  Mother  —  College  at  Aberdeen  — 
Robert  Hall  —  Takes  the  Degree  M.  A.  —  Arrival  at  Edin- 
burgh—  Notices  of  Eminent  Men — Medical  Studies  —  "Bru- 
nonianism"  —  Becomes  a  Member  of  the  Speculative,  Medi- 
cal, and  Physical  Societies  —  Essays  —  Desultory  Pursuits  — 
Thesis  —  Diploma  —  Leaves  Edinburgh  .... 


CHAPTER  II. 


Arrival  in  London  —  Period  of  Political  Excitement  —  Contem- 
plates a  Medical  Appointment  in  Russia  —  Marriage  —  Pam- 
phlet on  the  Regency  —  Abandons  the  Medical  for  the  Legal 
Profession  —  "  Vindiciae  Gallicae  "  —  "  Friends  of  the  People  " 
—  Letter  to  Mr.  Pitt  —  Called  to  the  Bar  —  Correspondence 
with  Mr.  Burke  —  Visit  to  Beaconsfield  —  Death  of  Mrs. 

Mackintosh  —  Letter  to  Dr.  Parr -tl 

B 


VI  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  m. 

PAGE 

Lectures  on  the  Law  of  Nature  and  Nations  —  Publication  of 
an  Introductory  Discourse — Criticisms  of  Mr.  Pitt  —  Lord 
Loughborough  —  Dr.  Parr — Letter  to  Mr.  Moore — Extracts 

—  Letters  to  Mr.  Moore  —  Mr.  Robert  Hall  —  Mr.  Sharp      .       99 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Marriage  —  Visits  Cresselly —  Letter  to  Mr.  Moore  —  Profes- 
sional Avocations  —  Letter  from  Mr.  Montagu  to  the  Editor 

—  Literary  Occupations  —  Visit  to  Scotland  —  Extract  from 
Mr.  Moore's  Journal  —  Visit  to  Paris  —  Letter  to  Mr.  Dugald 
Stewart  —  Trial  of  Peltier  —  Appointment  as  Recorder  of 
Bombay  —  Farewell  Letters  to  M.    Gentz  —  Mr.   Sharp  — 
Mr.  Philips  —  From  Mr.  Horner  —  Mr.  Hall — Embarks  at 
Ryde  137 

CHAPTER  V. 

Voyage  —  Arrival  at  Bombay  —  First  Impressions  —  State  of 
Society  —  Letters  to  Mr.  Sharp  —  Mr.  John  Allen  founds  a 
Literary  Society — Journal — Letters  to  Mr.  Sharp,  Mr.  Hall, 
Mr.  Philips,  Professor  Stewart — Death  of  the  Marquis  Corn- 
wallis  —  Letter  to  Mr.  Flaxman  —  State  of  the  Recorder's 
Court  203 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Excursion  to  Poonah  —  Letters  to  Mr.  Sharp  —  To  Mr.  G. 
Moore  —  To  M.  Degerando  —  News  of  the  War  in  Germany 
—  Letters  to  M.  Gentz  —  To  Mr.  Windham  —  Erection  of  a 
Court  of  Vice-Admiralty  — Case  of  the  "Minerva"  .  .  274 

CHAPTER  Vn. 

Journal— Death  and  Character  of  Mr.  Fox  — Letters  to  Dr. 
Parr  — To  Mr.  Moore  — To  Mr.  Sharp  — To  Mr.  Malcolm 
Laing  — Notice  of  Priestley  — Of  Mirabeau  —  Visit  to  Goa 
and  Madras  ....  321 


CONTENTS.  Vll 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

PAGE 

Marriage  and  Notice  of  Mr.  Rich  —  Letters  to  Mr.  Hall  —  To 
Mr.  Hoppner  —  To  Mr.  Whishaw —  To  Dr.  Sayers —  To 
Professor  Ogilvie  —  To  Lord  Holland — To  Mr.  Scarlett  — 
Journal  —  Letters  to  Professor  Smyth  —  To  Mr.  Rich  —  To 
Mrs.  John  Taylor  —  To  Mr.  Charles  Butler  —  To  General 
Malcolm 366 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Tour  in  the  Deckan  —  Poonah  —  Beejapoor  —  Calberga  — 
Golconda  —  Hyderabad  —  Court  of  the  Nizam  —  Death  of 
Meer  Allum  —  Beeder  —  Wyraag  —  Tent  Robbed  —  Patus 
—  General  Observations  450 


LIFE 


RIGHT  HON.  SIR  JAMES  MACKINTOSH, 


CHAPTER  I. 

BIRTH  —  PARENTAGE  —  GOES  TO  SCHOOL  AT  FORTROSE  —  EARLY  STUDIES  — 
PARTS  FROM  HIS  MOTHER  —  COLLEGE  AT  ABERDEEN  —  ROBERT  HALL  —  TAKES 
THE  DEGREE  M.  A.  —  ARRIVAL  AT  EDINBURGH  —  NOTICES  OF  EMINENT  MEN 
—  MEDICAL  STUDIES  —  "  BRUNONIANISM  "  —  BECOMES  A  MEMBER  OF  THE 
SPECULATIVE,  MEDICAL,  AND  PHYSICAL  SOCIETIES — ESSAYS  —  DESULTORY 
PURSUITS  —  THESIS  —  DIPLOMA  —  LEAVES  EDINBURGH. 

"  I  WAS  born  at  Aldourie,  on  the  banks  of  Loch  Ness, 
within  seven  miles  of  the  town  of  Inverness,  in  Scot- 
land, on  the  24th  of  October,  1765.  My  father,* 
Captain  John  Mackintosh,  was  the  representative  of  a 
family  which  had  for  above  two  centuries  possessed  a 
small  estate  called  Kellachie,  which  I  inherited  from  him, 
and  which  I  was  obliged  to  sell.  He  had  served  four 

*  "  His  (Mr.  M.'s)  father  and  I  not  only  served  together  in  the 
same  regiment  in  Germany,  but  in  the  same  company,  and  lived  together 
for  two  years  in  the  same  tent,  and  during  all  that  time  there  never 
passed  an  unkind  word,  or  look,  betwixt  us,  which  is  an  uncommon 
circumstance,  considering  what  selfish,  churlish  beings  soldiers  become 
during  the  course  of  a  troublesome  campaign.  We  did,  indeed,  live  on 
terms  of  the  most  perfect  friendship  together.  John  Mackintosh  was 
one  of  the  most  lively,  good-humoured,  gallant  lads  I  ever  knew ;  and  he 
had  an  elder  brother  of  the  name  of  Angus,  who  served  in  the  regiment 
(Col.  afterwards  Sir  R.  M.  Keith's)  that  constantly  encamped  next  to 
ours,  who  was  a  most  intelligent  man,  and  a  most  accomplished  gen- 
tleman. Mr.  M.'s  grandfather  saw  his  two  sons  return  home  at  the 
VOL.  I.  1 


2  LIFE    OF    THE  [1765. 

and  twenty  years  in  the  army,  into  which  he  entered 
very  young.  He  was  very  severely  wounded  at  the 
battle  of  Felinghausen,  in  the  seven  years'  war ;  and  his 
last  place  of  service  was  Gibraltar,  where  he  was  during 
the  whole  siege.  My  mother  was  Marjory  Macgillivray, 
the  daughter  of  Mr.  Alexander  Macgillivray,  by  Anne 
Fraser,  sister  of  Brigadier  General  Fraser,  who  was 
killed  in  General  Burgoyne's  army,  in  1777 ;  aunt  to 
Dr.  Fraser,  physician  in  London ;  and  to  Mrs.  Fraser 
Tytler,  wife  of  Lord  Woodhouselee,  now  (1805)  a  judge 
of  the  Court  of  Session  in  Scotland. 

a  My  father  joined  his  regiment  at  Antigua  soon  after 
my  birth,  and  continued  at  that  island,  and  at  Dubh'n, 
for  eight  or  nine  years.  I  was  reared  with  great  care 
and  tenderness  by  my  mother,  who  lived  with  her 
mother*  and  sisters  at  a  small  house  called  Clune.  I 
can  now,f  at  the  distance  of  twenty  years,  and  fifteen 
thousand  miles,  call  before  me  with  great  distinctness, 
the  prospect  from  the  window  of  our  little  parlour,  of  the 
lake  with  its  uninterrupted  expanse  of  twenty-four 
miles,  and  its  walls  of  perpendicular  wooded  rock ;  the 
road  that  leads  down  to  the  cottage,  all  its  windings,  all 

end  of  the  seven  years'  war,  one  with  a  shattered  leg,  and  the  other 
with  the  loss  of  an  eye.  As  Pope  says  — 

'  Both  gallant  brothers  bled  in  honour's  cause, 
In  Britain  yet  while  honour  gained  applause.' 

John  received  his  wound  at  the  battle  of  Felinghausen.  The  major  to 
whom  the  company  belonged  was  likewise  wounded,  and  the  ensign, 
like  some  of  Homer's  heroes,  was,  by  the  interposition  of  some  god  or 
goddess,  carried  off  the  field  in  a  cloud,  so  that  I  was  left  alone  to  see 
after  the  company."  —  JZxtract  of  a  Letter  from  Major  Mercer  to  Lord 
Glenbervie,  12th  Jan.,  1804. 

*  His  grandmother,  Mrs.  Macgillivray,  is  described  as  a  woman  of 
uncommon  powers  of  mind,  and  superior  cultivation  for  those  days. 

f  These  few  recollections  of  his  early  life  were  thrown  together  at 
an  interval  of  leisure  in  the  year  1805,  at  Bombay. 


1775.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR    JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  3 

the  smallest  objects  on  each  side  of  it ;  the  little  path 
where  we  walked  '  down  the  burn/  and  the  turf  seat 
where  we  rested,  are  more  present  to  my  fancy  than 
any  other  objects  in  nature.  My  mother  was  not  happy. 
My  father,  a  subaltern  and  younger  brother,  found  his 
pay  not  too  much  for  his  own  expenses,  and  all  the 
kindness  of  her  family  did  not  deliver  her  mind  from 
the  painful  feeling  of  dependence.  This,  perhaps,  con- 
tributed to  the  extreme  affection  which  she  felt  for  me. 
There  is  nothing  which  so  much  lightens  the  burden  of 
receiving  benefits  as  the  pleasure  of  conferring  them. 
I  alone  depended  on  her.  She  loved  me  with  that  fond- 
ness which  we  are  naturally  disposed  to  cherish  for  the 
companion  of  our  poverty.  The  only  infant  in  a  family 
of  several  women,  they  rivalled  each  other  in  kindness 
and  indulgence  towards  me,  and  I  think  I  can  at  this 
day  discover  in  my  character  many  of  the  effects  of  this 
early  education. 

"  In  the  summer  of  1775,  I  was  sent  to  school  at  a 
small  town  called  Fortrose,  under  a  master  named  Smith, 
who,  if  I  may  trust  my  recollection,  was  not  wanting  in 
abilities.  Nearly  thirty  years  after,  in  the  autumn  of 
1804, 1  met  his  youngest  son,  a  captain  in  the  Bombay 
artillery,  and  I  experienced  on  that,  as  on  several  other 
occasions,  that  no  idea  of  our  youth  can  be  uninteresting, 
when  it  is  revived  after  long  oblivion.  I  have  little 
recollection  of  the  first  two  years  at  school.  An  usher 
of  the  school,  one  Duncan,  who  boarded  in  the  same 
house  with  me,  was  suspected  of  some  heretical  opinions. 
The  boarding  mistress,  who  wTas  very  pious  and  orthodox, 
rebuked  him  with  great  sharpness ;  and  I  remember 
her  reporting  her  own  speech  to  her  husband,  and  the 
other  boarders,  with  an  air  of  no  little  exultation.  I 
have  a  faint  remembrance  of  the  usher  even  quoting  the 
Savoyard  Creed,  and  having  heard  of  Clarke's  Scripture 


4  LIFE   OF   THE  [1775. 

doctrine  of  the  Trinity.  This  infant  heresy  was  soon 
silenced  by  the  emigration  of  the  poor  usher  to  Jamaica, 
where  I  believe  he  soon  after  died.  I  rather  think  it 
contributed  to  make  my  mind  free  and  inquisitive.  Theo- 
logical controversy  has  been  the  general  inducement 
of  individuals  and  nations  to  engage  in  metaphysical 
speculation.  It  was  at  least  the  circumstance  which 
directed  my  curiosity  towards  those  objects,  which  have 
vainly  exercised  it  during  my  subsequent  life.  I  was 
frequently  and  kindly  entertained  at  the  house  of  Mr. 
Mackenzie,  of  Suddie,  an  old  gentleman  who,  with  some 
of  the  peculiarities  of  a  humourist,  was  not  without  some 
curiosity  and  knowledge.  He  had  a  tolerable  collection 
of  books.  Genealogy  was,  indeed,  his  favourite  science. 
But  his  passion  for  genealogy  led  him  to  explore  Scotch 
history,  especially  that  of  the  seventeenth  century,  in 
which  his  own  ancestors  had  been  actors.  He  was  natu- 
rally led  to  theology,  the  cause,  or  the  pretext  of  almost 
all  the  memorable  events  of  that  age.  He  was  very 
fond  of  Burnet's  History,  which  I  still  think  a  very 
agreeable  book  of  memoirs,  though  it  be  always  neces- 
sary to  keep  in  mind  that  it  is  the  work  of  a  zealous 
and  credulous  partisan.  He  lent  Burnet's  Commentary 
on  the  Thirty-nine  Articles  to  me,  and  I  have  now  a  dis- 
tinct recollection  of  the  great  impression  which  it  made. 
I  read  with  peculiar  eagerness  and  pleasure  the  com- 
mentary on  the  seventeenth  article, — that  which  regards 
Predestination ;  and  I  remember  Mr.  Mackenzie's  point- 
ing out  to  me,  that  though  the  Bishop  abstained  from 
giving  his  own  opinion  on  that  subject  in  the  Commen- 
tary, he  had  intimated  that  opinion  not  obscurely  in  the 
Preface,  when  he  says,  that  '  he  was  of  the  opinion  of 
the  Greek  Church,  from  which  St.  Austin  departed.'  I 
was  so  profoundly  ignorant  of  what  the  Greek  Church 
was,  and  what  St.  Austin's  deviations  were,  that  the 


1775.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  5 

mysterious  magnificence  of  this  phrase  had  an  extraor- 
dinary effect  on  my  imagination.  My  boarding  mistress, 
the  schoolmaster,  and  the  parson,  were  orthodox  Cal- 
vinists.  I  became  a  warm  advocate  for  free  will,  and 
before  I  was  fourteen  I  was  probably  the  boldest  heretic 
in  the  county.  About  the  same  time,  I  read  the  old 
translation  (called  Dryden's)  of  Plutarch's  Lives,  and 
Echard's  Roman  History.  I  well  remember  that  the 
perusal  of  the  last  led  me  into  a  ridiculous  habit,  from 
which  I  shall  never  be  totally  free.  I  used  to  fancy 
myself  emperor  of  Constantinople.  I  distributed  offices 
and  provinces  amongst  my  schoolfellows.  I  loaded  my 
favourites  with  dignity  and  power,  and  I  often  made  the 
objects  of  my  dislike  feel  the  weight  of  my  imperial 
resentment.  I  carried  on  the  series  of  political  events 
in  solitude  for  several  hours ;  I  resumed  them,  and  con- 
tinued them  from  day  to  day  for  months.  Ever  since 
I  have  been  more  prone  to  building  castles  in  the  air, 
than  most  others.  My  castle-building  has  always  been 
of  a  singular  kind.  It  was  not  the  anticipation  of  a 
sanguine  disposition,  expecting  extraordinary  success  in 
its  pursuits.  My  disposition  is  not  sanguine,  and  my 
visions  have  generally  regarded  things  as  much  uncon- 
nected with  my  ordinary  pursuits,  and  as  little  to  be 
expected,  as  the  crown  of  Constantinople  at  the  school  of 
Fortrose.  These  fancies,  indeed,  have  never  amounted  to 
conviction ;  or,  in  other  words,  they  have  never  influenced 
my  actions ;  but  I  must  confess  that  they  have  often 
been  as  steady,  and  of  as  regular  recurrence,  as  conviction 
itself,  and  that  they  have  sometimes  created  a  little  faint 
expectation,  —  a  state  of  mind  in  which  my  wonder  that 
they  should  be  realised  would  not  be  so  great  as  it 
rationally  ought  to  be.  The  indulgence  of  this  dream- 
ing propensity  produces  good  and  bad  consequences.  It 
produces  indolence,  improvidence,  cheerfulness ;  a  study 
1* 


6  LIFE   OF   THE  [1779. 

is  its  favourite  scene  ;  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  many  a 
man,  surrounded  by  piles  of  folios,  and  apparently  en- 
gaged in  the  most  profound  researches,  is  in  reality 
often  employed  in  distributing  the  offices  and  provinces 
of  the  empire  of  Constantinople. 

"  During  my  vacations  I  always  went  to  my  grand- 
mother's house,  where,  among  other  books,  I  found 
Dodsley's  Collection,  Pope  and  Swift.*  The  first  verse 
which  I  read  was  Pope's  Pastorals ;  and  the  first  Criti- 
cism I  recollect,  was  an  observation  which  I  repeated 
after  my  aunts,  on  the  great  superiority  of  Tate  and 
Brady's  Psalms  over  Sternhold  and  Hopkins'  version. 
I  then  spoke  with  the  confidence  of  youth.  I  think  it 
very  likely,  that  if  I  were  to  re-examine  the  question, 
I  might  now  think  it  more  doubtful.  I  cannot  now 
remember  whether  a  Pastoral,  or  an  Elegy  on  the  death 
of  my  uncle,  Brigadier-General  Fraser  (killed  7th  October, 
1777),  was  my  first  poetical  attempt ;  but  in  the  years 
1779  and  1780,  my  muse  was  exceedingly  prolific.  My 

*  His  passion  for  reading  withstood  all  his  father's  sneers  at  his 
degeneracy,  and  complaints  that  he  would  become  "  a  mere  pedant." 
He  was,  indeed,  constantly,  at  all  times  and  places,  employed  in  that 
occupation.  He  would  occasionally  take  his  book  and  his  dinner  out 
with  him,  and  remain  in  some  secluded  nook  in  the  hill  the  whole  day. 
All  his  feelings,  and  the  manner  in  which  he  expressed  them,  were 
considered  no  less  remarkable  at  that  early  age  —  a  circumstance 
which  drew  from  an  old  lady  the  observation  (descriptive  of  his  rea- 
diness) "  that  he  was  a  spontaneous  child."  But  an  old  female  domes- 
tic, who  used  to  be  his  attendant,  with  the  characteristic  caution  of 
her  country,  used  to  welcome  the  boy's  sallies  with  a  sober  admo- 
nition, "  Wait  awhile,  its  no  aye  that  wise  bairns  mak'  wise  men." 
The  housekeeper  of  his  uncle,  Mr.  Mackintosh,  of  Farr,  where  he  sub- 
sequently spent  some  of  his  college  vacations,  still  survives,  upon 
whom  the  young  student  first  practised  corruption  to  obtain  occasion- 
ally a  whole  candle,  wherewith  to  continue  his  midnight  studies  in  bed, 
in  place  of  the  small  bit  of  one  which  the  old  gentleman,  through  fear 
of  being  burnt  with  his  house,  enjoined. 


1779.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  7 

highest  attempt  was  an  epic  poem  on  the  defence  of 
Cyprus  by  Evagoras,  king  of  Salamis,  against  the  Persian 
army.  I  found  the  story  in  Rollin,  whose  Antient 
History  I  had  then  been  reading ;  and  I  thought  it  a 
noble  example  to  Great  Britain,  then  threatened  with 
invasion,  the  combined  fleets  of  France  and  Spain  riding 
triumphant  in  the  Channel. 

"In  the  year  1779  I  parted  from  my  good  and  fond 
mother,  who  went  to  England  to  my  father,  then  in 
camp  near  Plymouth,  and  who  soon  after  accompanied 
him  to  Gibraltar,  where  she  died.*  She  wrote  me  two 
letters,  in  one  of  which  she  described  the  action  between 
Sir  George  Rodney  and  Don  Juan  Langara,  of  which  she 
was  an  eye-witness ;  and  in  her  last  she  sent  me  two 
Scotch  bank-notes  of  one  pound  each,  which  seemed  at 
that  time  an  inexhaustible  fortune.  Some  time  before, 
my  first  schoolmaster  died.  He  had  been  effective  and 
severe.  He  was  succeeded  by  the  usher,  a  man  of  the 
name  of  Stalker,  of  great  honesty  and  good-nature,  but 
far  too  indulgent  to  me  to  be  useful.  He  employed  me 
in  teaching  what  very  little  I  knew  to  the  younger  boys. 
I  went  and  came,  read  and  lounged,  as  I  pleased.f  I 
could  very  imperfectly  construe  a  small  part  of  Virgil, 
Horace,  and  Sallust.  There  my  progress  at  school 
ended.  Whatever  I  have  done  beyond  has  been  since 

*  Where,  thirty  years  afterwards,  as  will  be  seen,  he  erected  a 
monument  to  her  memory. 

t  A  learned  professor  of  Aberdeen,  whilst  on  a  visit  at  the  house 
of  Sir  Alexander  Mackenzie,  of  Coul,  met,  in  one  of  his  morning 
rambles  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Fortrose,  a  little  boy,  with  whom  he 
fell  into  conversation,  and  with  whose  appearance  he  was  not  a  little 
struck.  Upon  mentioning  the  name  of  his  young  acquaintance,  and 
the  impression  left  on  his  own  mind  by  the  meeting,  Sir  Alexander 
replied,  "  Every  body  knows  that  boy  —  that  Jamie  Mackintosh." 
The  name  of  Jamie  Mackintosh  was  synonymous  over  all  the  country 
side,  with  a  prodigy  of  learning. 


8  LIFE    OF    THE  [1779. 

added  by  my  own  irregular  reading.  But  no  subsequent 
circumstance  could  make  up  for  that  invaluable  habit 
of  vigorous  and  methodical  industry  which  the  indul- 
gence and  irregularity  of  my  school  life  prevented  me 
from  acquiring,  and  of  which  I  have  painfully  felt  the 
want  in  every  part  of  my  life.* 

"  During  one  of  my  vacations  I  conceived  and  exe- 
cuted a  singular  experiment  on  the  friendship  of  my 

*  "  The  Rev.  John  Wood,  a  distant  relation  of  mine,  many  years 
after,  told  me  that  Jamie  Mackintosh  was  by  far  the  cleverest  boy 
he  ever  had  under  his  eye ;  and  that,  before  his  thirteenth  year,  he 
discovered  a  singular  love  for  politics.  It  was  at  the  period  when 
Fox  and  North  made  such  brilliant  harangues  on  the  American  war. 
Jamie  adopted  the  cause  of  liberty,  and  called  himself  a  whig !  and 
such  was  his  influence  among  his  schoolfellows,  that  he  prevailed  on 
some  of  the  elder  ones,  instead  of  playing  at  ball,  and  such  out-of- 
door  recreations,  to  join  him  in  the  school-room,  during  the  hours  of 
play,  to  assist  at  the  debates,  on  the  political  events  of  the  day,  which 
they  got  from  the  rector's  weekly  newspaper,  the  Aberdeen  Journal, 
the  only  gazette  in  the  north  at  that  time.  This  assembly  was  denomi- 
nated '  The  House  of  Commons,'  and  the  master's  pulpit  '  the  tribune,' 
from  which  the  orators  delivered  their  speeches.  When  Mackintosh 
mounted  the  rostrum,  he  harangued  till  his  soprano  voice  failed.  One 
day  he  was  Fox ;  another  Burke,  or  some  leading  member  of  opposition ; 
but  when  no  one  ventured  to  reply  to  his  arguments,  he  would  change 
sides  for  the  present,  personate  North,  and  endeavour  to  combat  what  he 
conceived  the  strongest  parts  in  his  own  speech.  A  youth  of  his  own  age, 
John  Mackenzie,  of  the  house  of  Suddie,  was  his  great  chum  ;  although 
they  differed  in  politics,  they  were  sworn  friends,  and  often  rehearsed  in 
the  fields  what  they  afterwards  delivered  from  the  pulpit ;  but  Mackenzie, 
though  also  a  clever  boy,  had  no  chance  with  his  opponent.  When  I 
found  out,"  continued  Mr.  Wood,  "  this  singular  amusement  of  boys,  I 
had  the  curiosity  to  listen,  when  Jamie  was  on  his  legs.  I  was  greatly 
surprised  and  delighted  with  his  eloquence  in  his  character  of  Fox, 
against  some  supposed  or  real  measure  of  the  prime  minister.  His 
voice,  though  feeble,  was  musical ;  and  his  arguments  so  forcible,  that 
they  would  have  done  credit  to  many  an  adult.  John  Mackenzie, 
afterwards  Major- General,  a  brave  officer,  was  killed  at  Talavera."  — 
Extract  of  a  Letter  from  Major  Pryse  L.  Gordon,  to  the  Ed. 


1780.]  EIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  9 

little  society  at  Fortrose.  I  wrote  a  letter  in  the  hand- 
writing of  an  uncle,  to  the  master  of  the  school,  an- 
nouncing my  own  death ;  and  to  make  it  still  more  in- 
teresting, the  letter  stated  that  in  gathering  hazel-nuts 
for  my  school  friends  I  had  fallen  down  a  rock,  that  I 
had  been  cruelly  mangled  in  my  fall,  and  that  I  had 
died  of  my  wounds.  I  was  rather  gratified  by  the 
result.  I  found  that  my  supposed  fate  had  excited  as 
much  mourning,  and  as  many  tears,  as  I  could  reason- 
ably have  desired. 

"  In  the  winter  after  I  versified  (in  as  rugged,  but  not 
so  nervous  lines  as  Donne  or  Oldham)  a  satirical  repre- 
sentation of  some  of  the  most  illustrious  personages  of 
our  little  town,  written  in  prose  by  a  lady  who  was 
very  kind  to  me.  This  occasioned  a  schism  in  the 
village ;  I  may  well  call  it  a  civil  war,  for  it  gave  rise 
to  a  civil  suit  and  a  criminal  trial.  I  warmly  espoused 
the  cause  of  the  young  lady  whose  satire  I  had  versified. 
In  this  I  perhaps  first  either  acquired  or  displayed  that 
propensity  to  warm  sympathy,  and  general  co-operation 
with  those  whose  general  motives  and  conduct  I  ap- 
proved, which  will  always,  in  some  measure,  bias  the 
judgment  —  which,  therefore,  a  philosopher  will  conquer 
if  he  can,  but  without  which,  in  active  life,  no  one  can 
do  much  harm  or  good. 

"  In  October,  1780,  I  went  to  college  at  Aberdeen, 
and  was  admitted  into  the  Greek  class,  then  taught  by 
Mr.  Leslie,  who  did  not  aspire  beyond  teaching  us  the 
first  rudiments  of  the  language  ;  more  would,  I  believe, 
have  been  useless  to  his  scholars.  He  instructed  us  in 
English  reading  and  recitation ;  and,  as  far  as  I  can 
recollect  his  instructions,  they  were  good,  though  his 
pronunciation  was  not  peculiarly  elegant ;  yet  I  think 
it  was  such  as  he  could  not  have  acquired  without  some 
residence  in  England.  I  can  now  call  to  mind  his 
reading  Adam's  description  of  his  feelings  after  his 


10  LIFE   OF    THE  [1780. 

creation,  '  As  new  waked  from  soundest  sleep/  &c.,  and 
I  think  it  was  read  well.  I  had  brought  with  me  to 
college  a  collection  of  my  verses,  which  were  soon  so 
generally  read  that  I  gained  the  most  undeserved  name 
of  '  the  poet/  by  which  I  was  known  for  two  or  three 
winters.  My  manuscripts  were  shown  to  the  learned 
Dr.  Charles  Burney,  then  finishing  his  term  at  Aber- 
deen. I  was  too  obscure  to  know  him  personally ;  but 
I  was  intoxicated  more  than  ever  I  shall  be  again  by 
praise,  when  I  heard  '  that,  in  his  opinion,  I  should  go 
on  and  might  do  well.'  I  bought  and  read  three  or 
four  books  this  first  winter,  which  were  very  much  out 
of  the  course  of  boys  of  fifteen  anywhere,  but  most  of 
all  at  Aberdeen.  Among  them  was  Priestley's  Institutes 
of  Natural  and  Revealed  Religion,  and  Beattie's  Essay 
on  Truth,  which  confirmed  my  disposition  to  meta- 
physical inquiries,  and  Warburton's  Divine  Legation, 
which  delighted  me  more  than  any  book  I  had  yet  read, 
and  which,  perhaps,  tainted  my  mind  with  a  fondness 
for  the  twilight  of  historical  hypothesis,  but  which  cer- 
tainly inspired  me  with  that  passion  for  investigating  the 
history  of  opinions  which  has  influenced  my  reading 
through  life.  I  have  often  indulged  my  fancy  at  the 
expense  of  my  understanding  in  looking  around,  when 
too  clear  a  daylight  did  not  prevent  the  mind  from 
shaping  and  colouring  objects  at  its  pleasure.  I  have 
often  felt  a  delightful  sense  of  liberty  in  escaping  from 
the  narrow  confines  of  reason,  which  I  am  disposed  in 
part  to  attribute  to  a  book  which  no  boy  or  youth  ever 
could  have  read  without  its  making  a  deep  impression  on 
his  mind.  The  luminous  theory  of  hieroglyphics,  as  a 
stage  in  the  progress  of  society,  between  picture-writing 
and  alphabetic  character,  is  perhaps  the  only  addition 
made  to  the  stock  of  knowledge  in  this  extraordinary 
work  ;  but  the  uncertain  and  probably  false  suppositions 
about  the  pantheism  of  the  ancient  philosophers,  and  the 


1780.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  11 

object  of  the  mysteries  (in  reality,  perhaps,  somewhat 
like  the  freemasonry  of  our  own  times)  are  well  adapted 
to  rouse  and  exercise  the  adventurous  genius  of  youth. 
They  must,  I  think,  have  contributed  to  form  that  pro- 
pensity to  theorise  on  the  origin,  progress,  and  decline 
of  theories,  which  I  still  very  strongly  feel. 

"  The  history  of  speculation  is  extremely  difficult,  be- 
cause it  requires  the  union  of  a  most  philosophical  spirit, 
with  very  various  and  exact  learning.  It  requires  a  most 
familiar  acquaintance  with  the  works  of  a  long  succession 
of  writers  of  various  ages  and  nations,  of  their  lan- 
guage, as  it  is  affected  by  the  peculiarities  of  their 
country,  of  their  time,  of  their  sect,  and  of  their  indi- 
vidual character.  The  historian  must  identify  himself 
with  them ;  and  yet  he  must  not  be  blinded  by  their 
prejudices.  He  must  collect  his  materials  from  many 
writers,  who  at  first  sight  appear  little  connected  with 
his  subject.  He  must  be  intimately  acquainted  with  the 
civil  history  of  those  nations,  amongst  whom  philosophy 
has  flourished.  After  this,  and  much  more  previous 
preparation,  the  great  difficulty  still  remains.  The  in- 
vestigation of  the  causes  which  have  affected  opinion,  is 
the  most  arduous  exertion  of  human  intellect.  When  all 
prejudices  are  subdued,  and  when  all  necessary  know- 
ledge is  gained,  the  theory  of  theories  will  continue  to 
have  difficulties  which  belong  to  its  nature,  and  which 
mere  industry  and  impartiality  wrill  never  overcome. 
The  circumstances  which  determine  the  revolutions  of 
speculation,  are  of  so  subtle  and  evanescent  a  kind,  that 
the  most  refined  politics  of  the  most  ingenious  states- 
men are  comparatively  gross  and  palpable.  Changes  of 
opinion  resemble  more  those  of  the  wreather  than  any 
other  appearances  in  the  material  world.  Like  them, 
they  depend  so  much  on  minute,  infinitely  varied,  and 
perpetually  changing  circumstances,  that  it  seems  almost 


12  LIFE    OF   THE  [1782. 

as  desperate  an  attempt  to  explain  them,  as  it  would  be 
to  account  for  the  shape  of  every  passing  cloud,  or  for 
the  course  of  every  breath  of  wind.  But  a  volume  would 
not  explain  the  difficulties  of  this  mental  meteorology. 
I  must,  however,  say,  that  I  speak  of  my  inclination,  not 
of  my  proficiency.  I  never  had  industry ;  I  now  have 
not  life  enough  to  acquire  the  preliminary  learning. 

"  To  return  from  this  digression,  into  which  Warburton 
has  led  me.  The  winters  of  1780-1,  1781-2,  1782-3, 
1783-4,  were  passed  at  Aberdeen,  and  the  vacations  at 
the  house  of  my  grandmother.  The  second  winter,  ac- 
cording to  the  scheme  of  education  at  King's  College, 
I  fell  under  the  tuition  of  Dr.  D unbar,  author  of 
'  Essays  on  the  History  of  Mankind,'  &c. ;  and  under  his 
care  I  remained  till  I  left  college.  He  taught  mathe- 
matics, natural  and  moral  philosophy,  in  succession. 
His  mathematical  and  physical  knowledge  was  scanty, 
which  may,  perhaps,  have  contributed  to  the  scantiness 
of  mine.  In  moral  and  political  speculation,  he  rather 
declaimed,  than  communicated  (as  he  ought)  elementary 
instruction.  He  was,  indeed,  totally  wanting  in  the  pre- 
cision and  calmness  necessary  for  this  last  office  ;  but  he 
felt,  and  in  his  declamation  inspired,  an  ardour  which, 
perhaps,  raised  some  of  his  pupils  above  the  vulgar, 
and  which  might  even  be  more  important  than  positive 
knowledge.  He  was  a  worthy  and  liberal-minded  man, 
and  a  very  active  opponent  of  the  American  war.  In 
spring,  1782,  when  the  news  arrived  of  the  dismissal  of 
Lord  North,  he  met  me  in  the  street,  and  told  me, 
in  his  pompous  way,  e  Well,  Mr.  M.,  I  congratulate  you ; 
—  the  Augean  stable  is  cleansed.'  Instead  of  giving 
my  own  opinion  of  his  book,  I  will  rather  state  that 
it  was  commended  by  Dr.  Robertson,  and  even  by 
Dr.  Johnson.  I  trace  to  his  example  some  declamatory 
propensities  in  myself,  which  I  have  taste  enough  in 


1782.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  13 

my  sober  moments  to  disapprove ;  but  I  shall  ever  be 
grateful  to  his  memory,  for  having  contributed  to  breathe 
into  my  mind  a  strong  spirit  of  liberty,  which,  of  all 
moral  sentiments,  in  my  opinion,  tends  most  to  swell  the 
heart  with  an  animating  and  delightful  consciousness  of 
our  own  dignity ;  which  again  inspires  moral  heroism, 
and  creates  the  exquisite  enjoyments  of  self-honour  and 
self-reverence. 

"  We  had  among  us  some  English  dissenters,  who 
were  educated  for  the  ecclesiastical  offices  of  their  sect. 
Robert  Hall,  now  a  dissenting  clergyman  at  Cambridge, 
was  of  this  number.  He  then  displayed  the  same  acute- 
ness  and  brilliancy  ;  the  same  extraordinary  vigour, 
both  of  understanding  and  imagination,  which  have 
since  distinguished  him,  and  which  would  have  secured 
to  him  much  more  of  the  admiration  of  the  learned  and 
the  elegant,  if  he  had  not  consecrated  his  genius  to  the 
far  nobler  office  of  instructing  and  reforming  the  poor. 

"  His  society  and  conversation  had  a  great  influence 
on  my  mind.  Our  controversies  were  almost  unceasing. 
We  lived  in  the  same  house,  and  we  were  both  very 
disputatious.  He  led  me  to  the  perusal  of  Jonathan 
Edwards'  book  on  Free-Will,  which  Dr.  Priestley  had 
pointed  out  before.  I  am  sorry  that  I  never  yet  read 
the  other  works  of  that  most  extraordinary  man,  who, 
in  a  metaphysical  age  or  country,  would  certainly  have 
been  deemed  as  much  the  boast  of  America,  as  his  great 
countryman,  Franklin.  We  formed  a  little  debating 
society,  in  which  one  of  the  subjects  of  dispute  was,  I 
remember,  the  duration  of  future  punishments.  Hall 
defended  the  rigid,  and  I  the  more  lenient  opinion. 
During  one  winter,  we  met  at  five  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing to  read  Greek,  in  the  apartments  of  Mr.  Wynne,  a 
nephew  of  Lord  Newburgh,  who  had  the  good  nature 
to  rise  at  that  unusual  hour  for  the  mere  purpose  of 

VOL.  i.  2 


14  LIFE    OF   THE  [1782. 

regaling  us  with  coffee.  Hall  read  Plato,  and  I  went 
through  Herodotus.  Our  academical  instruction  has 
left  very  few  traces  on  my  mind."  * 

*  "  When  these  two  eminent  men  first  became  acquainted,  Sir  James 
was  in  his  eighteenth  year,  Mr.  Hall  about  a  year  older ;  and  Sir  James 
said  he  became  attached  to  Mr.  Hall '  because  he  could  not  help  it.' 
There  wanted  many  of  the  supposed  constituents  of  friendship.  Their 
tastes  at  the  commencement  of  their  intercourse  were  widely  different ; 
and  upon  most  of  the  topics  of  inquiry  there  was  no  congeniality  of 
sentiment ;  yet,  notwithstanding  this,  the  substratum  of  their  minds 
seemed  of  the  same  cast ;  and,  upon  this,  Sir  James  thought  the  edifice 
of  their  mutual  regard  first  rested.  Yet  he  ere  long  became  fasci- 
nated by  his  brilliancy  and  acumen,  in  love  with  his  cordiality  and 
ardour,  and  awe-struck  (I  think  that  was  the  term  employed)  by  the 
transparency  of  his  conduct,  and  the  purity  of  his  principles.  They 
read  together,  they  sat  together  at  lecture,  if  possible,  they  walked 
together.  In  their  joint  studies  they  read  much  of  Xenophon  and 
Herodotus,  and  more  of  Plato  ;  and  so  well  was  all  this  known,  exciting 
admiration  in  some,  in  others  envy,  that  it  was  not  unusual,  as  they 
went  along,  for  their  class-fellows  to  point  at  them,  and  say,  there  go 
1  Plato  and  Herodotus.'  But  the  arena  in  which  they  met  most  fre- 
quently, was  that  of  morals  and  metaphysics.  After  having  sharpened 
their  weapons  by  reading,  they  often  repaired  to  the  spacious  sands 
upon  the  sea-shore,  and  still  more  frequently  to  the  picturesque  scenery 
on  the  banks  of  the  Don,  above  the  old  town,  to  discuss  with  eagerness 
the  various  subjects  to  which  their  attention  had  been  directed.  There 
was  scarcely  an  important  position  in  Berkeley's  Minute  Philosopher, 
in  Butler's  Analogy,  or  in  Edwards  on  the  Will,  over  which  they  had 
not  thus  debated  with  the  utmost  intensity.  Night  after  night ;  nay, 
month  after  month,  for  two  sessions,  they  met  only  to  study  or  dispute, 
yet  no  unkindly  feeling  ensued.  The  process  seemed  rather,  like 
blows  in  that  of  welding  iron,  to  knit  them  closer  together.  Sir  James 
said  his  companion,  as  well  as  himself,  often  contended  for  victory  ;  yet 
never,  so  far  as  he  could  then  judge,  did  either  make  a  voluntary 
sacrifice  of  truth,  or  stoop  to  draw  to  and  fro  the  serra  /lo/o/t «££«?,  as 
is  too  often  the  case  with  ordinary  controvertists.  From  these  dis- 
cussions, and  from  subsequent  discussion  upon  them,  Sir  James  learnt 
more  as  to  principles  (such,  at  least,  he  assured  me  was  his  deliberate 
conviction),  than  from  all  the  books  he  ever  read.  On  the  other  hand, 
Mr.  Hall,  through  life,  reiterated  his  persuasion,  that  his  friend  pos- 


1782.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR    JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  15 

[The  reader  will  not  be  displeased  at  a  short  inter- 
ruption, for  the  purpose  of  introducing  an  interesting 
notice  relating  to  this  period,  contained  in  a  letter  of 
one  of  Sir  James's  fellow  students,  who  now  fills  a  dis- 
tinguished situation  in  the  early  scene  of  their  common 
studies,  the  Rev.  W.  Jack,  D.  D.,  Principal  of  King's 
College,  Aberdeen,  to  the  Hon.  Lord  Gillies.  "  Pur- 
suing the  same  course,  I  followed  at  the  distance  of  one 
year.  In  either  case  (both  at  Aberdeen  and  Edinburgh) 
I  found  him  the  centre  of  all  that  was  elegant  and 
refined,  by  general  acclaim,  installed  inter  studiosos 
facile  princeps.  At  Aberdeen  he  was  familiarly  desig- 
nated l  the  poet,'  or  '  poet  Mackintosh.'  I  never  could 
learn  to  what  circumstance  he  was  indebted  for  this 
soubriquet,  but  was  told  that  it  had  followed  him  from 
school.  In  vain  he  disclaimed  it,  pleading  not  guilty 
to  the  extent  of  a  single  couplet.*  I  considered  it  meant 
as  a  hint,  that  if  he  did  not  compose  verses,  he  should— 
possessing  in  his  own  person  all  the  qualifications  of  a 
gay  Troubadour. 

"  His  chief  associate  at  King's  College  was  my  class- 
fellow,  the  late  Rev.  Robert  Hall.  Like  Castor  and 
Pollux,  they  were  assimilated  in  the  minds  of  all  who 
knew  them,  by  reason  of  the  equal  splendour  of  then- 
talents  ;  although  in  other  respects  they  were  very  unlike. 

sessed  an  intellect  more  analogous  to  that  of  Bacon,  than  any  person  of 
modern  times  ;  and  that,  if  he  had  devoted  his  powerful  understanding 
to  metaphysics,  instead  of  law  and  politics,  he  would  have  thrown  an 
unusual  light  upon  that  intricate,  but  valuable  region  of  inquiry.  Such 
was  the  cordial  reciprocal  testimony  of  these  two  distinguished  men ; 
and,  in  many  respects  (latterly,  I  hope  and  believe,  in  all  the  most 
essential)  it  might  be  truly  said  of  both,  '  as  face  answereth  to  face  in 
a  glass,  so  does  the  heart  of  man  to  his  friend.'  "  —  Gregory's  Memoir 
of  Robert  Hall,  p.  22. 

*  It  is  not  improbable  that  during  the  latter  part  of  his  residence  he 
wished  to  'shake  off  the  poet. 


16  LIFE    OF    THE  [1782. 

General  courtesy,  tasteful  manners,  a  playful  fancy,  and 
an  easy  flow  of  elocution,  pointed  out  James  Mackintosh 
among  his  companions.  Plainness,  sincerity,  an  ardent 
piety,  and  undeviating  love  of  truth,  were  the  character- 
istics of  Eobert  Hall ;  in  both  so  strongly  marked,  that 
I  do  not  believe  they  ever  changed,  or  could  change, 
under  any  circumstances. 

"  Under  their  auspices  a  society  was  formed  in  King's 
College,  jocularly  designated  '  the  Hall  and  Mackintosh 
club.'  They  were,  in  fact,  the  centre  of  attraction,  if 
not  the  source  of  light,  round  which  eight  or  nine  of  us 
moved,  partaking  of  the  general  influence.  Of  this 
group  of  once  ardent  spirits,  I  am  now  the  sole  survivor ; 
and  of  all  of  them  I  can  say,  that  to  a  man  they  lived 
and  died  zealous  supporters  of  what  are  called  liberal 
principles.  My  recollections  of  the  topics  which  then 
occupied  us,  has  become  imperfect.  It  was  an  object 
with  all  of  us  to  rouse  into  action  the  energies  of  Robert 
Hall,  whose  great  guns  were  sure  to  tell.  This  could 
only  be  done  by  convincing  him  of  the  moral  tendency 
of  the  argument;  —  then  there  were  none  more  ani- 
mated than  he  ;  whereas  he  detested  sophistry,  and  the 
more  ingenious  the  sophism,  the  greater  his  despite. 
Mackintosh  would  assail  him  with  small  artillery,  of 
which  he  well  knew  the  graceful  and  becoming  use ; 
and,  having  for  a  season  maintained  the  contest,  would 
himself  lead  the  way  to  an  unanimous  adoption  of  prin- 
ciples which  could  not  be  controverted. 

"  At  one  time  Mackintosh  devoted  eight  days  of  in- 
tense study  to  obtain  a  mastery  over  the  controversy 
between  Dr.  Priestley  and  Bishop  Horsley,  not  doubting 
that  this  would  lead  to  a  warm  conflict.  The  subject 
did  not  please,  and  polemics  were  henceforth  pro- 
scribed. He  was  afterwards  more  successful  in  selecting 
subjects  from  the  late  American  war  —  from  the  Letters 


1782.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR    JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  17 

of  Junius,  and  from  the  pending  trial  of  Warren  Hast- 
ings. I  consider  it  a  consequence  of  having  partici- 
pated in  these  collisions  of  opinions,  that  afterwards, 
when  the  Vindicise  Gallicse  and  Hall's  Discourses  ap- 
peared, the  perusal  affected  me,  as  a  repetition  of  a 
former  lesson,  with  the  leading  principles  of  which  I  was 
before  familiar."] 

"  The  lectures  of  Mr.  Ogilvie,  Professor  of  Humanity 
(as  the  Roman  literature  is  called  in  the  Scotch  Uni- 
versities, I  still  remember  with  pleasure.  This  most  in- 
genious and  accomplished  recluse,  from  whom  I  have  re- 
ceived a  letter  within  this  month  (June,  1805),  is  little 
known  to  the  public.  He  published,  without  his  name, 
'  An  Essay  on  the  Right  of  Property  in  Land,'  full  of 
benevolence  and  ingenuity,  but  not  the  work  of  a  man 
experienced  in  the  difficult  art  of  realising  projects  for 
the  good  of  mankind.  Its  bold  agrarianism  attracted 
some  attention  during  the  ferment  of  speculation  occa- 
sioned by  the  French  revolution.  But  what  I  remember 
with  most  pleasure  of  Mr.  Ogilvie,  were  his  translations 
of  passages  in  classical  writers.  I  should  distrust  the 
general  admiration  which  attends  the  vague  memory  of 
youthful  impressions  ;  but  I  now  recollect  distinctly  his 
version  of  some  parts  of  JEneid  ;  and  I  doubt  whether  a 
great  poet,  distinguished,  beyond  other  excellencies,  by 
his  perfect  style,  was  ever  so  happily  rendered  into 
prose,  as  in  these  fragments  of  Mr.  Ogilvie." 

["  Many  of  them"  (the  literati  of  Aberdeen  of  the  pre- 
ceding generation)  "  are  well  known  to  the  public  — 
others,  of  talents  not  inferior,  have  left  no  memorial  of 
their  powers  but  in  the  memory  of  their  friends  and 
pupils  —  often  probably  from  the  allurements  of  various 
reading  and  unrestrained  study,  to  which  the  abundance 
of  books  peculiarly  exposes  the  residents  in  an  university. 
Dr.  John  Gregory  had  recently  renewed  the  old  con- 

2* 


18  LIFE   OF   THE  [1782. 

nexion  of  his  family  with  that  of  Mr.  Wilson,  by  a  mar- 
riage with  the  Hon.  Elizabeth  Forbes,  and  it  need  not  be 
added  that  this  eminent  physician  did  not  impair  his  in- 
heritance of  literary  reputation.  The  name  and  writings 
of  Dr.  Reid  are  celebrated  throughout  Europe,  and  it 
would  be  impertinent  to  attempt  any  addition  to  what 
has  been  said  of  him  in  the  account  of  his  life,  which  is 
a  model  for  the  biography  of  a  philosopher.  Professor 
Ogilvie  has  shunned  the  public  notice,  content  with  the 
grateful  remembrance  of  those  disciples  to  whose  youth- 
ful minds  the  light  was  first  disclosed  by  that  philosophi- 
cal thinker,  and  most  elegant  scholar.  It  is  unnecessary 
to  expatiate  on  the  merit  of  Dr.  Beattie  as  a  tender  and 
harmonious  poet,  and  as  one  of  the  purest  as  well  as 
most  eloquent  Scottish  writers  of  English  prose.  It  is 
not  easy  to  overrate  the  merit  of  the  principles  which 
appear  to  have  actuated  him  in  his  ethical  lectures. 
Entrusted  with  the  care  of  many  young  men  whose 
humble  fortune  compelled  them  to  pass  their  lives  in 
the  immediate  superintendence  of  the  Africans,  he  in- 
culcated on  their  minds  the  sacred  rights  of  these  un- 
happy beings,  at  a  time  when  their  condition  was  little 
thought  of  in  Europe,  and  without  the  possibility  of 
fame,  or  even  thanks.  No  moral  teacher  could  be  more 
judicious  in  his  choice  of  subjects  of  instruction,  or  more 
pure  from  the  suspicion  of  any  motives  but  such  as  were 
worthy  his  high  calling.  It  implied  no  mean  proficiency 
in  virtue  thus  laboriously  to  sow  the  good  seed  of  which 
he  never  could  see  the  increase.  Major  Mercer,  in  his 
unambitious  retirement,  cultivated  letters  with  a  disin- 
terested love.  His  beautiful  poems  were  given  to  the 
world  without  his  consent ;  and  it  was  only  after  his 
death  that  the  author  of  them  was  made  known,  by  com- 
mendations flowing  from  affection,  but  ratified  by  justice. 
The  writer  of  this  sketch  feels  a  peculiar  gratification  in 


1782.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  19 

thus  being  called  upon  to  name,  with  due  honor,  this 
accomplished  gentleman,  who,  moved  by  friendship  for 
his  father,  was  the  generous  encourager  of  the  studies 
of  his  boyhood."  *] 

"  Among  my  few  acquaintances  at  Aberdeen  was  Major 
Mercer,  an  old  friend  and  fellow-soldier  of  my  father, 
during  the  l  Seven  Years'  War,'  whose  little  volume  of 
poems,  everywhere  elegant,  and  sometimes  charming,  has 
been  published  a  second  time  at  London,  last  year.  His 
wife,  a  sister  of  Lord  Glenbervie,  was  a  beautiful  and 
accomplished  woman.  He  condescended  to  talk  litera- 
ture with  me,  and  I  well  remember  his  expressing  won- 
der at  the  admiration  for  Dryden,  expressed  by  Johnson 
in  his  Lives  of  the  Poets,  then  first  published,  and  which, 
by  the  favour  of  Dr.  Dunbar,  who,  I  believe,  had  his  copy 
from  the  author,  I  devoured  with  greediness  and  delight. 
I  visited,  frequently,  Mrs.  Riddock,  mentioned  by  Bos- 
well  as  his  cousin,  in  his  journeys.  She  had  with  her  a 
young  niece,  my  relation,  with  whose  present  fate  I  am 
unacquainted,  but  who  was  then  so  very  agreeable  and 
promising. 

"  These  are  the  few  circumstances  of  my  college  life, 
which  have  remained  on  my  mind.  The  vacations  were 
partly  occupied  by  versifying. 

"  I  had  now  the  usual  subject  of  verse.  About  the 
year  1782  I  fell  violently  in  love  with  a  very  beautiful 

girl,  Miss  S ,  daughter  of  Mr.  S ,  of  I , 

about  three  years  younger  than  myself.  I  wooed  her 
in  prose  and  rhyme,  till  she  returned  my  paesion.  For 
three  or  four  years  this  amour  was  the  principal  object 
of  my  thoughts ;  during  one  half-year  almost  the  only 
occupation  of  my  time.  I  became  extremely  impatient 

*  Extract  from  an  unpublished  notice  of  the  late  Mr.  George 
Wilson. 


20  LIFE    OF    THE  [1784. 

for  an  early  establishment  in  life,  which  should  enable 
me  to  marry.  The  simplicity  of  my  habits  of  life,  and 
the  eagerness  of  my  passion,  combined  to  inspire  me 
with  the  most  philosophical  moderation.  My  utmost 
ambition  did  not  soar  beyond  a  professorship  at  Aber- 
deen. The  means  of  accomplishing  this  humble  project 
were,  however,  scanty.  The  return  of  my  father  from 
Gibraltar,  at  the  peace  in  1783,  gave  me  the  little  help 
of  a  very  good-natured  and  indulgent  parent ;  perhaps 
too  ready  to  yield  to  all  my  wishes.  But  he  had  passed 
his  life  in  another  world  ;  and  the  utmost  he  could  con- 
tribute towards  the  execution  of  my  scheme  was  a  letter 
to  his  friend,  Major  Mercer,  whose  influence  I  represented 
as  all  powerful  with  the  literati  of  Aberdeen.  Whether 
this  letter  was  ever  sent  I  know  not.  The  plan  was 
gradually  relinquished,  and  in  spring  1784,*  I  finally 
quitted  college  with  little  regular  and  exact  knowledge, 
but  with  considerable  activity  of  mind  and  boundless 
literary  ambition. 

'  The  world  was  all  before  me,' 

and  I  had  to  choose  my  profession.  My  own  inclination 
was  towards  the  Scotch  bar.  But  my  father's  fortune 
was  thought  too  small  for  me  to  venture  on  so  uncertain 
a  pursuit.  To  a  relation  from  London,  then  in  the 
Highlands,  I  expressed  my  wish  to  be  a  bookseller  in 
the  capital,  conceiving  that  no  paradise  could  surpass 
the  life  spent  amongst  books,  and  diversified  by  the 
society  of  men  of  genius.  My  cousin, '  a  son  of  earth,' 
knew  no  difference  between  a  bookseller  and  a  tallow- 
chandler,  except  in  the  amount  of  annual  profit.  He  as- 
tonished me  by  the  information  that  a  creditable  book- 
seller, like  any  other  considerable  dealer,  required  a 

*  He  took  his  degree  of  Master  of  Arts,  March  30th. 


1784.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  21 

capital,  which  I  had  no  means  of  commanding,  and  that 
he  seldom  was  at  leisure  to  peruse  any  book  but  his 
ledger.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  his  account  of  the 
matter  was  pretty  just ;  but  I  now  think  that  a  well 
educated  man,  of  moderate  fortune,  would  probably  find 
the  life  of  a  bookseller  in  London  very  agreeable.  Our 
deliberations  terminated  in  the  choice  of  physic,  and  I 
set  out  for  Edinburgh  to  begin  my  studies,  in  October, 
1784.  In  the  meantime  I  am  ashamed  to  confess  that 
my  youthful  passion  had  insensibly  declined,  and,  during 
this  last  absence,  was  nearly  extinguished.  The  young 
lady  afterwards  married  a  physician  at  Inverness,  and  is 
now,  I  hope,  the  happy,  as  well  as  respectable  mother  of 
a  large  family. 

"  My  arrival  at  Edinburgh  opened  a  new  world  to  my 
mind.  That  city  was  then  the  residence  of  many  extra- 
ordinary men.  Dr.  Smith,  the  first  economical  philo- 
sopher, and,  perhaps,  the  most  eloquent  theoretical 
moralist,  of  modern  times.  Dr.  Black,  a  man  equally 
philosophical  in  his  character  and  in  his  genius,  the 
father  of  modern  chemistry,  though  his  modesty  and 
his  indolence  will  render  his  name  celebrated  rather  by 
the  curious  in  the  .history  of  that  science  than  by  the 
rabble  of  its  cultivators.  John  Home,  the  feebleness  of 
whose  later  works  cannot  rob  him  of  the  glory  of  being 
the  author  of  the  best  tragedy  produced  by  the  British 
nation  —  certainly  since  the  death  of  Howe — perhaps 
since  the  death  of  Otway.  Henry  Mackenzie,  to  whom 
we  owe  (in  my  opinion)  the  most  exquisite  pathetic 
fictions  in  our  language.  Dr.  Cullen,  the  most  cele- 
brated medical  teacher  and  writer  in  Europe,  whose 
system  of  medicine  just  then  beginning  to  be  on  the 
wane,  had  almost  rivalled  those  of  Boerhaave  and  Hoff- 
man ;  and  whose  accurate  descriptions  of  disease  will 
probably  survive  a  long  succession  of  equally  specious 


22  LIFE    OF    THE  [1784. 

systems.  Dr.  Robertson  the  most  elegant  and  pictu- 
resque narrator  among  modern  historians ;  industrious, 
sagacious,  and  rational,  though  not  often  very  profound 
or  original.  Dr.  Ferguson,  not  undeserving  of  the  great 
reputation  which  he  had  acquired  by  that  masculine 
energy  and  austere  dignity  of  style,  which  seemed  to 
become  a  teacher  of  morals.  Dr.  Hutton,  with  whose 
metaphysical  works  I  lament  that  I  am  unacquainted, 
and  of  whose  celebrated  system  of  geology  I  am  not  a 
competent  judge  ;  but  of  whose  superior  powers  I  can- 
not doubt,  after  reading  the  admirable  account  of  him 
by  Mr.  Playfair.  Mr.  Robison,  one  of  the  greatest 
mathematical  philosophers  of  his  age  ;  and  last  in  sen- 
iority, though  in  no  other  respect,  the  ingenious,  ac- 
complished, elegant,  and  amiable  Stewart,  my  excellent 
friend,  whose  just  fame  is  now  almost  the  only  standing 
column  in  the  temple  of  the  Caledonian  muses.  Eight 
years  before,  the  immortal  Hume  had  ceased  to  illumi- 
nate our  frozen  regions ;  and  in  1792  died  Henry  Home 
Lord  Kames  —  a  writer  who  had  never  so  cultivated  his 
vigorous  natural  powers,  as  for  them  to  ripen  into 
talents  for  any  species  of  composition,  who  wrote  many 
bad  books,  full  of  ingenuity,  which,  at  the  constant  ex- 
pense of  his  own  permanent  reputation,  supplied  lite- 
rary ferment  for  the  minds  of  his  countrymen,  and 
which,  though  they  have  already  perished,  have  had  a 
lasting  effect,  and  deserve  much  consideration  in  the 
literary  history  of  Scotland. 

"  With  these  celebrated  men  my  age  did  not  allow 
me  to  be  much  acquainted,  and  accident  furnished  me 
with  few  opportunities  of  access  to  them.  At  the 
hospitable  house  of  my  friend,  Mr.  Fraser  Tytler,  now 
(1805)  Lord  Woodhouselee,  I  often  saw  his  friends, 
Mr.  Henry  Mackenzie  and  Dr.  Gregory.  The  elegant 
genius  of  the  former  was  too  calm  to  make  a  due 

D 


1784.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  23 

impression  on  the  tumultuary  mind  of  a  disputatious 
boy,  and  I  soon  contracted  prejudices  against  the  latter 
of  the  same  nature  with  those  which  made  me  spurn 
the  society,  and  reject  the  almost  paternal  kindness  of 
Dr.  Cullen,  to  whom  I  had  been  very  warmly  recom- 
mended. 

"  Within  a  few  weeks  after  my  arrival  in  Edinburgh, 
I  became  a  Brunonian.  This  requires  some  explanation. 
A  few  weeks  before  that  time,  John  Brown,  first  a 
teacher,  then  a  writer  of  barbarous  Latin,  as  well  as 
private  secretary  to  Dr.  Cullen,  had  become  a  teacher 
of  medicine,  and  the  founder  of  a  new  medical  system, 
which,  after  being  destined  to  i  strut  and  fret  its  hour 
upon  the  stage,'  and  after  the  miserable  death  of  its 
author,  excited  the  warmest  controversies  on  the  con- 
tinent of  Europe ;  and,  combining  with  some  of  the 
singular  novelties  of  philosophical  speculation  lately 
prevalent  in  Germany,  seems  likely  still  to  make  no 
inconsiderable  figure  in  the  revolutions  of  philosophy. 
This  extraordinary  man  had  such  a  glimpse  into  medical 
experience,  as  enabled  him  to  generalise  plausibly,  with- 
out knowing  facts  enough  to  disturb  him  by  their  impor- 
tunate demands  for  explanations,  which  he  never  could 
have  given.  He  derived  a  powerful  genius  from  nature ; 
he  displayed  an  original  invention  in  his  theories,  and 
an  original  fancy  in  his  declamation.  The  metaphysical 
character  of  his  age  and  nation  gave  a  symmetry  and 
simplicity  to  his  speculations  unknown  to  former  theo- 
ries of  medicine.  He  had  the  usual  turbulence  of  an 
innovator,  with  all  the  pride  of  discovery,  and  the  rage 
of  disappointed  ambition.  Conscious  of  his  great  powers, 
and  very  willing  to  forget  the  faults  which  obstructed 
their  success,  he  gladly  imputed  the  poverty  in  which  he 
constantly  lived  to  the  injustice  of  others,  rather  than  to 
his  own  vices.  His  natural  eloquence,  stimulated  by  so 


24  LIFE   OF   THE  [1784. 

many  fierce  passions,  and  delivered  from  all  curb  by  an 
habitual,  or  rather  perpetual  intoxication,  was  constantly 
employed  in  attacks  on  the  systems  and  doctrines,  which 
had  been  the  most  anciently  and  generally  received 
among  physicians,  and  especially  against  those  teachers  of 
medicine  who  were  most  distinguished  at  Edinburgh,  to, 
whom  he  imputed  as  base  a  conspiracy,  and  cruel  perse- 
cution, as  those  which  Rousseau  ascribed  to  all  Europe. 
They  probably  were  not  so  superior  to  the  common  frail- 
ties of  human  nature,  as  to  examine  with  patience  and 
candour  the  pretensions  of  an  upstart  dependent,  whom 
they  perhaps  had  long  considered  as  ignorant,  and  now 
might  believe  to  be  ungrateful.  This  new  doctrine  had 
great  charms  for  the  young ;  it  allured  the  speculative 
by  its  simplicity,  and  the  indolent  by  its  facility ;  it  pro- 
mised infallible  success,  with  little  previous  study  or  ex- 
perience. Both  the  generous  and  the  turbulent  passions 
of  youth  were  flattered  by  an  independence  of  established 
authority.  The  pleasures  of  revolt  were  enhanced  by 
that  hatred  of  their  masters  as  impostors,  and  even  as 
tyrants,  with  which  all  the  power  of  Brown's  invective 
was  employed  to  inspire  them.  Scope  and  indulgence 
were  given  to  all  their  passions.  They  had  opponents 
to  detest,  as  well  as  a  leader  to  admire,  without  which 
no  sect  or  faction  will  much  flourish.  Add  to  all  this 
that  Brown  led  the  way  in  Bacchanalian  orgies,  as  well 
as  in  plausible  theories  and  animating  declamation. 
It  will  not  seem  wonderful  that  a  man  who  united  so 
many  sources  of  influence  should  have  many  followers, 
independently  of  the  real  merits  of  his  system,  which 
were  very  great,  but  which  had  a  small  share  in  procur- 
ing converts.  It  ought  not  to  be  omitted  that  some  of 
the  most  mischievous  and  effectual  of  the  above  allure- 
ments arose  not  from  the  subject,  but  from  the  teacher. 
Among  these,  every  one  will  number  personal  invective ; 


1784.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  25 

and  it  is  equally  true  that  the  system  must  have  been 
grossly  misunderstood,  before  it  could  have  been  sup- 
posed to  favour  idleness  or  intemperance,  though,  as  it 
was  taught,  it  did  in  fact  promote  these  views. 

"  I  was  speculative,  lazy,  and  factious,  and  predisposed 
to  Brunonianism  by  all  these  circumstances.  The  excit- 
ing cause  was  an  accident  which  I  will  shortly  mention. 
During  a  fever  with  which  I  was  attacked,  Mr.  Alexan- 
der, a  very  excellent  young  man,  the  son  of  a  physician 
at  Halifax,  visited  me.  He  was  a  zealous  Brunonian. 
By  his  advice  I  swallowed  a  large  quantity  of  wine,  and 
by  that  prescription  I  either  was,  or  seemed  to  be,  sud- 
denly and  perfectly  cured.  I  suddenly  became  a  Bruno- 
nian. I  was  elected  a  member  of  a  society  *  which  met 
weekly  for  the  discussion  of  medical  questions,  under 
the  somewhat  magnificent  title  of  ( The  Royal  Medical 
Society.'  It  was  then  divided  into  Cullenians  and  Bru- 
nonians  —  the  Catholic  Church  and  the  Heretics.  The 
first  was  zealously  supported  by  the  timid  and  the  pru- 
dent ;  and  it  might  also  comprehend  some  lukewarm 
sceptics,  who  thought  it  better  to  practice  a  lukewarm 
conformity  to  the  established  system,  than,  at  the  ex- 
pense of  their  own  and  the  public  quiet,  to  embrace 
doctrines  somewhat  more  specious  indeed,  but  perhaps 
equally  false.  The  Brunonians  were,  as  usual,  more  ac- 
tive and  enterprising  than  their  opponents  of  the  estab- 
lishment ;  and  whether  they  had  any  natural  superiority 
or  not,  they  had  at  least  more  active  power. 

"  In  three  months  after  my  arrival  in  Edinburgh,  before 

*  "  He  accompanied  a  friend  to  the  Medical  Society  in  the  capacity 
of  a  visiter.  Having  listened  for  a  time  to  the  discussions  going  on, 
lie  asked  permission  to  speak,  which  he  did  to  such  a  good  purpose, 
that  forthwith  he  was  elected  a  member  by  general  acclaim.  When  I 
rejoined  him  next  year  in  Edinburgh,  I  found  him  President  of  the 
Royal  Medical  Society."  —  Principal  Jack's  Letter. 

VOL.  I.  3 


26  LIFE   OF    THE  [1784. 

I  could  have  distinguished  bark  from  James's  powder,  or 
a  pleurisy  from  a  dropsy  in  the  chamber  of  a  sick  patient, 
I  discussed  with  the  utmost  fluency  and  confidence  the 
most  difficult  questions  in  the  science  of  medicine.  We 
mimicked,  or  rather  felt  all  the  passions  of  an  adminis- 
tration and  opposition ;  and  we  debated  the  cure  of  a 
dysentery  with  as  much  factious  violence  as  if  our  sub- 
ject had  been  the  rights  of  a  people,  or  the  fate  of  an 
empire.  Any  subject  of  division  is,  indeed,  sufficient  food 
for  the  sectarian  and  factious  propensities  of  human 
nature.  These  debates  might,  no  doubt,  be  laughed  at 
by  a  spectator ;  but  if  he  could  look  through  the  ridicu- 
lous exterior,  he  might  see  that  they  led  to  serious  and 
excellent  consequences.  The  exercise  of  the  under- 
standing was  the  same,  on  whatever  subjects,  or  in  what- 
ever manner  it  was  employed.  Such  debates  were  the 
only  public  examinations  in  which  favour  could  have  no 
place,  and  which  never  could  degenerate  into  mere  for- 
mality ;  they  must  always  be  severe,  and  always  just. 

"  I  was  soon  admitted  a  member  of  the  Speculative 
Society,  which  had  general  literature  and  science  for  its 
objects.  It  had  been  founded  about  twenty  years  before, 
and,  during  that  period,  numbered  among  its  members 
all  the  distinguished  youth  of  Scotland,  as  well  as 
many  foreigners  attracted  to  Edinburgh  by  the  medical 
schools. 

"  When  I  became  a  member,  the  leaders  were  Charles 
Hope,  now  Lord  Justice  Clerk,*  John  Wilde,  afterwards 
professor  of  civil  law,  and  who  has  now,  alas !  survived 
his  own  fertile  and  richly  endowed  mind;  Malcolm 
Laing  the  historian, 

'  The  scourge  of  impostors  and  terror  of  quacks ; ' 
Baron  Constant  de  Rebecque,  a  Swiss  of  singular  man- 

*  [1835.]     Lord  President  of  the  Court  of  Session. 


1785.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR    JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  27 

ners  and  powerful  talents,  and  who  made  a  transient 
appearance  in  the  tempestuous  atmosphere  of  the  French 
Revolution  ;  *  Adam  Gillies,f  a  brother  of  the  historian, 
and  a  lawyer  in  great  practice  at  Edinburgh ;  Lewis 
Grant,J  eldest  son  of  Sir  James  Grant,  then  a  youth  of 
great  promise,  afterwards  member  of  parliament  for  the 
county  of  Elgin,  now  in  the  most  hopeless  state  of  men- 
tal derangement ;  and  Thomas  Addis  Emmett,  who  soon 
after  quitted  physic  for  law,  and  became  distinguished 
at  the  Irish  bar.  He  was  a  member  of  the  secret  direc- 
tory of  united  Irishmen.  In  1801,  when  I  last  visited 
Scotland,  he  was  a  state  prisoner  in  Fort  George.  He  is 
now  a  barrister  at  New  York. 

"  Hope  had  not  much  fancy,  but  he  had  sense  and  de- 
cision, and  he  was  a  speaker  of  weight  and  force. 

"  Emmett  did  not  reason,  but  he  was  an  eloquent 
declaimer,  with  the  taste  which  may  be  called  Irish,  and 
which  Grattan  had  then  rendered  so  popular  at  Dublin. 
Wilde  had  no  precision  and  no  elegance  ;  he  copied  too 
much  the  faults  of  Mr.  Burke's  manner.  He  was,  how- 
ever, full  of  imagination  and  knowledge,  a  most  amusing 
speaker  and  delightful  companion,  and  one  of  the  most 
generous  of  men. 

"  Laing  was  most  acute  and  ingenious,  but  his  mean- 
ing was  obscured  by  the  brevity  which  he  too  much 
pursued  in  his  writings,  and  by  an  inconceivable  rapidity 
of  utterance.  Grant  was  a  feeble  speaker  on  popular 
subjects,  and  accordingly  failed  in  the  House  of  Com- 
mons, but  he  had  great  powers  of  invention  and  dis- 
crimination in  science,  and  might  have  become,  I  think, 
no  mean  philosopher.  Upon  the  whole,  they  were  a 

*  This  was,  of  course,  written  long  before  M.  Constant  laid  the 
foundations  of  a  more  durable  fame. 
f  Now  a  lord  of  session  and  justiciary. 
%  The  present  Earl  of  Seafield. 


28  LIFE    OF   THE  [1785. 

combination  of  young  men  more  distinguished  than  is 
usually  found  in  one  university  at  the  same  time  ;  and 
the  subsequent  fortune  of  some  of  them,  almost  as  singu- 
lar as  their  talents,  is  a  curious  specimen  of  the  revolu- 
tionary tunes  in  which  I  have  lived.  When  I  was  in 
Scotland  in  1801,  Constant  was  a  tribune  in  France ; 
C.  Hope,  Lord  Advocate  ;  and  Emmett,  his  former  com- 
panion, a  prisoner  under  his  controul. 

"  My  first  speech  was  in  the  Speculative  Society ;  it 
was  against  the  slave  trade,  which  Dr.  Skeete,  a  West 
Indian  physician,  attempted  to  defend.  My  first  essay 
was  on  the  religion  of  Ossian.  I  maintained  that  a 
belief  in  the  separate  existence  of  heroes  must  always 
have  prevailed  for  some  time  before  hero-worship  ;  that 
the  greatest  men  must  be  long  dead,  believed  to  exist 
in  another  region,  and  considered  as  objects  of  reverence 
before  they  are  raised  to  the  rank  of  deities ;  that  Ossian 
wrote  at  this  stage  in  the  progress  of  superstition  ;  and 
that  if  Christianity  had  not  been  so  soon  introduced,  his 
Trenmor  and  Fingal  might  have  grown  into  the  Saturn 
and  Jupiter  of  the  Caledonians.  Constant  complimented 
me  for  the  ingenuity  of  the  hypothesis,  but  said,  that  he 
believed  Macpherson  to  have  been  afraid  of  inventing  a 
religion  for  his  Ossian. 

"  Graham,  a  medical  quack,  long  notorious  in  London, 
attended  the  lectures  at  Edinburgh  in  my  first  winter 
there,  1784-5.  He  endeavoured  to  make  himself  con- 
spicuous, by  what  he  called  the  earth-bath,  which  con- 
sisted in  burying  himself  in  the  ground  up  to  the  neck, 
and  remaining  in  that  situation  for  several  hours.  The 
exhibition  brought  multitudes  of  people  together,  but 
he  was  more  laughed  at  than  wondered  at,  and  he  soon 
after  burnt  out  Where,  and  when  he  died,  I  never 
heard. 

"  In  the  next  year  we  had  several  ingenious  foreigners : 


1785.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  29 

Bachmatief,  a  Eussian ;  Luzuriaga,  a  Spaniard ;  a  Bra- 
zilian, whose  name  I  have  forgotten  ;  but  more  particu- 
larly, Afzelius,  the  nephew  of  Bergman,  himself  a  pro- 
fessor at  Upsal ;  Locatelli,  a  very  amiable  and  accom- 
plished Milanese,  of  whose  fate  during  the  subsequent 
revolution  of  his  country,  I  never  heard ;  and  Gerard,  a 
Frenchman  of  talents  and  eloquence,  who  came  with 
Mr.  Goodwin,  soon  after  well  known  to  physiologists  by 
his  curious  and  important  experiments  on  respiration." 

Here  terminates  abruptly,  and  at  an  interesting  crisis, 
the  sketch  of  his  early  years,  which  he  began  with  eager- 
ness, as  an  introduction  to  a  journal,  which  he  proposed 
to  keep  some  years  subsequently,  and  which,  like  the 
journal  itself,  he  wanted  perseverance  to  continue.  His 
opinion  of  the  state  of  study  at  Edinburgh  at  that  time, 
and  of  the  defects  which  attended  it,  are,  however,  pre- 
served in  the  following  few  lines. 

"I  am  not  ignorant  of  what  Edinburgh  then  was. 
I  may  truly  say,  that  it  is  not  easy  to  conceive  a  univer- 
sity where  industry  was  more  general,  where  reading 
was  more  fashionable,  where  indolence  and  ignorance 
were  more  disreputable.  Every  mind  was  in  a  state  of 
fermentation.  The  direction  of  mental  activity  will  not 
indeed  be  universally  approved.  It  certainly  was  very 
much,  though  not  exclusively,  pointed  towards  meta- 
physical inquiries.  Accurate  and  applicable  knowledge 
was  deserted  for  speculations  not  susceptible  of  certainty, 
nor  of  any  immediate  reference  to  the  purposes  of  life. 
Strength  was  exhausted  in  vain  leaps,  to  catch  what  is 
too  high  for  our  reach.  Youth,  the  season  of  humble 
diligence,  was  often  wasted  in  vast  and  fruitless  projects. 
Speculators  could  not  remain  submissive  learners.  Those 
who  will  learn,  must  for  a  time  trust  their  teachers,  and 
believe  in  their  superiority.  But  they  who  too  early 
think  for  themselves,  must  sometimes  think  themselves 

3* 


30  LIFE    OF   THE  [1786. 

wiser  than  their  master,  from  whom  they  can  no  longer 
gain  anything  valuable.  Docility  is  thus  often  extin- 
guished, when  education  is  scarcely  begun.  It  is  vain 
to  deny  the  reality  of  these  inconveniences,  and  of  other 
most  serious  dangers  to  the  individual  and  to  the  com- 
munity, from  a  speculative  tendency  (above  all)  too 
early  impressed  on  the  minds  of  youth." 

These  observations  probably  afford  a  very  fair  view 
of  the  situation  of  his  own  mind  during  the  three  years 
which  he  spent  at  the  university.  Though  professedly 
engaged  in  the  study  of  medicine,  he  seems  not  to  have 
been  a  very  ardent  student  in  the  dry  and  laborious 
preliminary  labours,  so  necessary  for  the  acquisition  of 
a  thorough  acquaintance  with  the  fundamental  facts  on 
which  the  science  rests.  Before  he  had  acquired  a  full 
share  of  this  solid  and  positive  knowledge,  he  was  eager 
to  plunge  into  speculation.  Besides  belonging  to  the 
"  Speculative,"  he  became  a  very  active  member  of 
"The  Royal  Medical"  and  "Physical"  societies,  two 
excellent  institutions,  which  for  many  years  were  sup- 
ported with  great  spirit,  and  which,  with  the  able  pre- 
lections of  the  eminent  men  who  then  taught  the  various 
branches  of  medical  science  and  practice,  contributed 
their  aid  to  keep  alive,  and  to  exercise  the  ardour  of  the 
student,  and  to  send  forth  the  many  illustrious  men, 
whose  names  adorn  this  school  of  medicine.  Each  mem- 
ber of  these  societies  was  obliged  to  present  a  paper  on 
some  particular  branch  of  medical  science,  the  choice  of 
which  was  left  to  himself;  but  which  when  read,  was 
publicly  commented  upon  by  the  members,  and  afforded 
the  writer  an  opportunity  of  defence  or  correction. 
The  papers  which  Mr.  M.  contributed  on  these  occasions, 
are  still  preserved  in  the  records  of  these  societies,  and 
are  here  noticed  more  at  large,  as  they  are  almost  the 
only  memorials  that  remain  of  his  first  profession. 


1786.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR    JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  31 

The  subject  of  that  which  he  presented  to  the  "  Royal 
Medical  Society,"  was  intermittent  fever,  in  which  he 
took  a  view  of  those  of  the  tertian  tribe  only.  He 
shows  a  considerable  acquaintance  with  the  opinions  of 
the  best  authors  on  the  subject,  and  traces  at  some 
length  the  symptoms  of  the  disorder,  as  affected  by 
situation,  season,  and  climate ;  the  various  forms  which 
it  assumes ;  the  influence  of  marshes  and  miasmata ;  the 
various  species  of  the  disease  ;  their  effects,  and  the  mode 
of  cure.  He  examines  particularly  four  general  sources 
of  disease  :  1,  organic  lesion ;  2,  chemical  change  of  the 
fluids ;  3,  increase  or  diminution  of  action  ;  4,  change  of 
action.  It  is  not  to  be  supposed,  that  in  a  study  in 
which  he  never  engaged  with  much  zeal,  the  young 
student  should  add  anything  to  the  knowledge  that  was 
already  possessed  on  the  subject ;  but  he  at  least  shows 
much  elegance  and  ingenuity  in  his  mode  of  treating  it, 
as  well  as  his  spirit  of  independence,  by  the  freedom 
with  which  he  differs,  not  only  from  the  received  authori- 
ties, but  from  his  master,  Brown,*  whom  he  justly  charges 
with  being,  in  this  instance,  too  exclusive,  and  confined 
an  his  views.  He  delights,  as  his  habit  was,  in  pursuing 
general  speculations,  wherever  they  present  themselves, 
and  willingly  leaves  the  slow,  but  solid  footing  of  induc- 
tion, for  the  flattering  and  rapid,  but  vague  conclusions 
afforded  by  logical  generalities  and  metaphysical  propo- 
sitions. "  I  must  be  suffered,"  says  he,  "  to  introduce  this 
by  observing,  that  the  imperfection  of  the  explanation 
is  no  objection  to  the  truth  of  the  theory.  In  the  words 
of  the  most  admirable  person  of  the  present  age,  a  theory 

*  Brown  retorted  upon  him  by  one  day,  when  he  observed  him 
(what  was  pretty  often  not  the  case)  present  at  his  lecture,  cautioning 
his  audience  "  against  the  example  of  certain  ingenious  young  men, 
who  occupied  themselves  in  defending  his  opinions,  instead  of  coming 
to  his  lectures  to  learn  them." 


32  LIFE    OF   THE  [1786. 

founded  on  fact,  and  not  assumed,  is  always  good  for  so 
much  as  it  explains  ;  our  inability  to  push  it  indefinitely, 
is  no  argument  at  all  against  it.  This  inability  may  be 
owing  to  our  ignorance  of  some  necessary  media  —  to 
a  want  of  proper  application  —  to  many  other  causes 
besides  the  defect  or  falsehood  of  the  principles  we 
employ."*  The  passage  is  curious  also  as  showing  at 
what  an  early  period  Burke  had  become  an  object  of 
that  idolatry,  which  he  always  remained.  Some  subse- 
quent observations  on  the  imperfection  of  medical  theory, 
the  truth  of  which  the  most  experienced  physicians  will 
always  be  the  first  to  acknowledge,  are  a  good  deal  in 
the  style  of  his  later  writings.  "  It  is  fortunate  for  man- 
kind," he  remarks,  "  that  in  this  disease,  though  we  must 
lament  the  obscurity  of  its  theory,  we  are  not  also,  as  in 
most  others,  condemned  to  deplore  the  insufficiency  of 
our  practice.  That  portion  of  accident  which  mixes  in 
human  affairs,  has,  on  this  occasion,  happily  anticipated 
the  slow  progress  of  intellect  and  of  science.  Few 
medical  theories  have  either  truth  or  utility  enough  to 
enable  us  to  predict ;  it  is  their  highest  praise  if  they 
can  be  reconciled  to  whatever  empiricism  or  accident  has 
discovered.  The  theory  which  has  been  here  delivered, 
if  it  is  false,  is  at  least  innocent,  since  it  directs  to  no 
practice,  the  success  of  which  is  not  established  by  the 
most  extensive  and  accurate  observations.  i  Imitemur/ 
says  the  illustrious  friend  of  Haller, '  philosophos  morales, 
qui  ex  dogmatibus  sectarum  diversis  eadem  prsecepta 
eruunt.'  "  f  This  doctrine,  however  true,  is  liable  to  be 
inconveniently  applied,  in  unskilful  hands,  to  defend 
groundless  and  shadowy  hypotheses.  But  the  disease 
which  he  had  chosen  to  treat  of  is,  happily,  under  the 

*  On  the  Sublime  and  Beautiful,     f  Werlhoff.  Op.  vol.  i.  p.  260. 


1786.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  33 

controul  of  medicine  in  an  uncommon  degree ;  and  he  con- 
cludes his  essay  by  a  beautiful  extract  from  Lord  Bacon, 
yielding  to  an  inclination  observable  in  all  his  earlier 
works,  of  bringing  prominently  forward  select  and  appro- 
priate passages  of  eminent  writers.  "  In  the  correspond- 
ence between  the  theory  and  cure  of  this  disease,"  he 
observes,  "  there  seems  to  be  an  example  of  that  alliance 
between  science  and  experience,  which  is  so  happily  illus- 
trated, with  his  usual  richness  of  imagination  and  depth 
of  thought,  by  Lord  Bacon : — 'Formica  colligit,  et  utitur, 
ut  faciunt  empirici ;  aranea  ex  se  fila  educit,  neque  a  par- 
ticularibus  materiam  petit,  ita  faciunt  medici  speculativi 
ac  mere  sophistici ;  apis  denique  cseteris  se  melius  gerit. 
Haec  indigesta  e  floribus  mella  colligit,  deinde  in  visce- 
rum  cellulis  concocta  maturat,  iisdemque  tamdiii  insudat, 
donee  ad  integram  perfectionem  perduxerit.' ': 

The  paper  which  he  read  to  the  Royal  Physical 
Society,  February  23rd,  1786,  on  the  instincts  and  dis- 
positions of  animals,  affords  larger  scope  to  his  favourite 
philosophical  speculations,  and  he  is  less  cramped  than 
in  the  last  by  the  professional  nature  of  his  subject. 
It  is  evidently  what  it  professes  to  be,  a  hasty  produc- 
tion, but  shows  strong  powers  of  mind,  and  sound  prin- 
ciples of  ratiocination.  The  inquiry  is  composed  of  two 
branches ;  —  whether  the  actions  of  animals  indicate  the 
existence  of  principles  in  them  in  all  respects  similar  to 
those  which  govern  human  actions ;  and  whether  those 
actions  which  appear  very  different,  may  not  be  proved 
to  proceed  from  the  same  source ;  or,  in  other  words, 
whether  brutes  have  human  faculties  —  whether  they 
have  original  instinctive  principles. 

As  to  the  former  of  these  questions,  he  proves,  at  some 
length,  the  existence  in  brutes  of  memory,  imagination, 
and  reason,  in  different  degrees.  He  declines  entering 
on  the  difficult  question,  —  to  what  circumstance  are  we 


34  LIFE   OF   THE  [1786. 

to  attribute  the  intellectual  superiority  of  man  over  the 
other  animals  ? 

The  second  branch  of  the  inquiry  is  stated  to  be, 
"  whether  intelligence  be  in  its  nature  one,  or  whether 
animals  possess  any  sources  of  knowledge  different  from 
human ;  or  whether  instinct  may  not  be  proved,  in  all 
its  varieties,  to  be  a  habit  of  design,  formed  in  a  manner 
similar  to  that  in  which  man  acquires  intellectual  habits." 
"  Instinct "  he  describes  as  being  a  power  with  desire  of 
performing  a  definite  action,  which  appears  early  — 
which  is  unvaried  with  respect  to  its  objects,  the  excel- 
lence of  which  bears  no  proportion  to  the  general  state 
of  the  knowledge  or  genius  of  the  animal,  which  receives 
neither  change  nor  improvement  from  the  progress  of 
the  individual,  or  the  succession  of  the  species. 

Following  Reimarus,  he  points  out  two  species  of  in- 
stincts ;  —  the  first,  mechanical  instincts,  where  the  end 
to  be  obtained  is  simple,  but  where  the  motions  of  the 
body  necessary  for  its  attainment  are  numerous  and  com- 
plicated ;  for  example,  the  act  of  sucking.  The  second, 
industrious  instincts,  where  the  difficulty  and  appearance 
of  design  are  in  the  works  perfonned  by  the  animal,  as 
in  the  cases  of  the  beaver,  the  bee,  &c.  To  the  first,  as 
indicating  no  knowledge,  and  performed  by  no  art,  he 
denies  the  character  of  instinctive  action,  (though  they 
seem  to  be  those  which  in  general  most  peculiarly  receive 
that  name,)  and  proceeds  to  examine  the  second  species. 

On  this  latter,  he  contends  that  principles,  having  every 
character  of  instinct,  are  acquired,  as  in  the  instance  of 
the  music  of  birds,  when  they  are  placed  while  young 
with  birds  of  a  different  note  ;  or  of  beavers,  who  vary 
the  structure  of  their  houses  with  their  local  position  and 
circumstances ;  or  of  the  discerning  of  distances  by  sight, 
which  might  have  been  supposed  to  be  instinctive,  (having 
every  character  of  instinct,)  had  not  an  accidental  experi- 


1786.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  35 

ment  conducted  us  to  the  truth.  As  actions  exhibiting 
every  mark  of  instinct  have  thus  frequently  appeared  to 
be  the  result  of  experience,  we  are  necessarily  led  to 
reasonable  doubts  as  to  their  origin.  Chinese  science  is 
scarce  more  improved,  since  very  remote  times,  than  the 
labour  of  the  bee. 

The  principal  peculiarities  on  which  he  supposes  in- 
stinct to  depend,  are  stated  to  be  — 

1.  Short  infancy. 

2.  The  insulated  nature  of  certain  classes  of  ideas. 

3.  The  connection  of  narrow  capacity  with  unequal 
perfection. 

4.  The  absence  of  language  and  government. 

1.  He  observes  that  short  infancy  is  connected  with 
the  early  acquisition  of  subordinate  arts,  and  the  general 
inferiority  of  intellect ;  while  those  animals  who  have 
long  infancy,  exhibit  scarce  any  traces  of  instinct,  but, 
on  the  contrary,  a  superiority  of  understanding ;  and  he 
attempts  to  account  for  the  fact  from  natural  causes. 
He  remarks  that,  even  in  the  human  race,  Asia,  which 
produces  premature  civilisation,  has  been  distinguished 
by  uniform  or  stationary  manners  and  arts. 

2.  "  The  peculiar  nature  of  the  ideas,  which  are  the 
object  of  an  art,  may  prevent  its  improvement  or  change. 
If  the  number  of  classifications  between  the  ideas  of  a 
class  be  exhausted,  —  and  if  that  class  be  not  associated 
with  the  ideas  of  any  other,  the  progress  of  the  mind, 
with  regard  to  that  class,  must  cease."    This  is  illustrated 
in  the  art  of  walking,  of  articulating  sounds,  and  of  dis- 
cerning distances  by  sight,  which  have  been  stationary 
since  the  origin  of  man.     But  arts  stationary,  with  re- 
spect to  the  lower  animals,  may  be  improved  by  man, 
as  in  the  art  of  walking,  which  in  man  may  be  associated 
with  ideas  of  elegance  and  imagination.     He  adds,  that 
the  instincts  of  infancy  are  stationary,  and  that  in  general 


36  LIFE    OF   THE  [1786. 

knowledge  acquired  at  an  age  to  which  no  memory 
extends,  is  incapable  of  improvement. 

3.  Man,  from  the  first  moment  of  existence,  begins 
his  progress  in  a  variety  of  arts ;  animals  who  have  a 
narrow  capacity  begin  theirs  in  only  one  or  two  arts. 
The  progress  of  the  former  is  therefore  slow  ;  that  of  the 
latter  rapid.    Hence  the  disparity  between  the  excellence 
of  the  latter  in  these  arts,  and  the  general  character  of 
their  intellect,  will  be  very  great ;  so  that  even  narrow 
capacity  is  connected  with  perfection  in  the  subordinate 
arts.     He  supposes  that  the  accidental  discovery  made 
by  the  nightingale,  of  the  superiority  of  its  vocal  organ, 
(dependent  on  the  superior  strength  of  the  larynx,)  may 
perhaps  contribute  to  musical  inclination. 

4.  The  obvious  influence  of  the  absence  of  language 
and  of  government,  is  not  dwelt  upon  at  any  length. 

A  scale  of  animal  intelligence  follows. 

To  the  lowest  class  belong  those  who  have  scarce 
attained  to  definite  volition,  and  in  whom  voluntary 
motion  (the  great  characteristic  of  animal  life)  is  scarcely 
discernible. 

In  the  second  class  may  be  comprehended  those  ani- 
mals in  whose  actions,  though  precisely  voluntary,  very 
obscure  traces  either  of  instinct  or  of  reason  can  be  dis- 
cerned. 

To  the  third  may  be  referred  those  animals  in  whom 
premature  perfection  and  early  acquisition  is  joined  with 
narrow  capacity  and  general  inferiority  of  understanding. 
To  this  class  belong  all  the  instinctive  animals. 

Under  the  fourth  may  be  arranged  those  animals,  the 
evolution  of  whose  minds  is  slow,  and  who  gradually 
attain  to  superior  excellence.  To  this  class  belong  "  man 
and  his  kindred  animals,  extending  from  Newton  to  the 
elephant." 

Many  difficulties  he  allows  may  be  urged  about  the 


1786.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  37 

manner  in  which  instinctive  principles  are  produced ; 
but  he  maintains  that  one  instance  in  which  they  are 
proved  to  have  been  acquired,  is  worth  a  thousand  such 
difficulties ;  and  that  causes  whose  operation  is  proved, 
are  not  to  be  rejected  because  we  may  imagine  them  to 
be  inadequate. 

"  Let  it  be  remembered,"  he  concludes,  "  as  some  ex- 
cuse for  deficiencies,  that  I  have  attempted  to  defend 
that  which  the  infirmity  of  the  human  understanding 
makes  most  dangerous,  —  affirmation  and  theory.  The 
tendency  of  such  modes  of  thinking,  though  they  often 
give  rise  to  error  for  a  time,  seems  to  be  ultimately  favour- 
able to  the  progress  of  the  human  mind.  From  the  col- 
lision of  error,  and  from  the  active  spirit  that  produces 
hypotheses,  truth  may  eventually  arise,  but  a  confident 
and  indolent  scepticism  must  be  for  ever  stationary." 

Both  these  useful  essays  evince  considerable  powers 
of  thought,  but  a  mind  evidently  more  turned  to  meta- 
physical and  moral  argumentation,  than  to  a  laborious 
and  patient  collection  of  physical  facts.  Of  this  he  him- 
self soon  became  sensible,  and  the  discovery  influenced 
the  plan  of  his  future  life. 

Exertions  such  as  the  above  essays  infer,  must  be 
confessed  to  be  exceptions  to  the  ordinary  tenor  of  the 
employment  of  his  time.  Occasions  of  pressing  interest 
were  required  to  rouse  him  to  attempt  them.  His  inclina- 
tion for  desultory  reading  and  speculation  seduced  him 
so  entirely  from  the  routine  of  the  branch  of  professional 
education,  which  he  was  professing  to  follow,  that  he  was 
jocularly  dubbed  "  an  honorary  member  of  the  classes." 
In  addition  to  the  disadvantages  which  followed  from 
such  indolence,  a  line  of  opposition  which  he  had  taken 
to  the  regular  professors,  and  academical  authority,  in  a 
vein  of  boyish  humour,  rather  estranged  him  from  some 
of  his  own  nearest  connections,  who  looked  upon  him 

VOL.  i.  4 


38  LIFE   OF   THE  [1786. 

as  an  able,  but  wayward  youth,  whom  time  would  bring 
round  to  more  reasonable  views.  He,  meanwhile,  found 
what  he  no  doubt,  at  the  time,  considered  ample  amends, 
in  the  more  jovial  society  of  those  of  his  fellow-students 
who  were  loth  to  admit  that  the  day  of  thoughtless 
pleasure  was  past. 

The  following  impeachment,  by  one*  who  was  an 
accomplice  at  these  orgies,  had  probably  considerable 
share  of  truth  :  — "  The  literary  fame  which  the  supe- 
riority of  his  talents  had  acquired  at  Aberdeen,  travelled 
before  him  to  Edinburgh ;  and  on  his  arrival,  his  ac- 
quaintance and  company  were  eagerly  courted  by  those 
students  who  aspired  to  equal  eminence,  or  who  embarked 
in  similar  pursuits.  If  Edinburgh  afforded  him  more 
various  facilities  for  improvement,  it  also  held  out  oppor- 
tunities of  pleasure  and  dissipation,  in  which  even  the 
most  cautious  youth  is  often  too  prone  to  indulge.  Young 
Mackintosh  was  not  altogether  proof  against  the  frailties 
of  his  age,  and  he  indulged  pretty  freely  in  all  those 
enjoyments  in  which  its  ardour  and  impetuosity  are 
wont  to  revel.  The  character,  however,  of  his  dissipa- 
tion was  very  different  from  that  of  the  generality  of 
young  men.  Whatever  might  be  the  inconstancy  of  his 
other  amours,  the  love  of  knowledge  never  once  deserted 
him ;  for  whether  he  sighed  in  the  Idalian  groves,  or 
joined  in  the  roar  of  the  convivial  board,  he  had  con- 
stantly a  book  in  his  hand,  and  most  commonly  an 
ancient  or  a  modern  poet,  upon  whose  sentiments  or 
diction  he  frequently  interposed  some  observations,  and 
to  which  he  endeavoured  to  direct  the  attention  and  re- 
marks of  others.  He  was  thus  unremittingly  active  in 
the  exercise  of  his  mind,  and  thus  happily  contrived  to 
imbibe  instruction  with  his  wine." 

*  The  late  John  Fleming,  M.  D. 


1787.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  39 

The  recurrence  of  the  vacations,  which  were  commonly 
spent  with  his  aunt  at  Farr,  or  with  his  other  kind  rela- 
tives, Mr.  and  Mrs.  Eraser,  at  Moniack,  also  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  Inverness,  released  him  for  a  time  to 
ramble  amongst  the  secluded  solitudes  of  his  native  hills. 
Thither  he  was  accompanied  only  by  that  ardent  love 
of  study  and  literary  abstraction,*  which  had  become  the 
presiding  habit  of  his  mind. 

The  allotted  course  of  education  having  now  elapsed, 
he  became  candidate  for  a  degree,  and  prepared,  in  con- 
formity with  custom,  a  thesis  to  be  submitted  to  the 
professors,  as  one  of  the  tests  of  qualification.  The  sub- 
ject he  selected  was,  "  De  motu  musculari ; "  f  one  of  so 
much  intricacy  and  doubt,  as  to  cause  very  general  sur- 
prise in  those  who  had  been  cognizant  of  his  desultory 
mode  of  study,  at  the  lucid  manner  in  which  the  inquiry 
into  the  different  hitherto  received  opinions  was  con- 
ducted ;  he  himself  supporting  the  theory  of  Haller 
regarding  the  necessary  intervention  of  nervous  action 
in  producing  muscular  irritability,  against  that  of  Whytt, 
and  the  more  generally  received  opinions  of  the  time. 

It  was  somewhat  characteristic,  that  on  the  morning 

*  Amusing  instances  might  be  cited.  One  day,  after  he  had  been 
conversing  with  Mrs.  Fraser,  a  key,  which  was  much  wanted,  as  some 
visiters  were  waiting  for  refreshments  of  wine,  &c.,  and  it  "  oped  that 
sacred  source  of  sympathetic  joy  "  —  could  not  be  found  ;  it  struck  her 
that  Mr.  M.,  hi  an  absent  mood,  might  have  taken  it  up.  A  servant 
was  despatched  after  him,  by  whom  he  was  found  in  a  pool  of  the  burn, 
which  runs  by  the  house,  bathing,  with  his  clothes  on  one  stone,  and 
his  watch  on  another,  while  the  young  philosopher  was  busily  employed 
in  feeling  his  own  pulse,  to  discover  the  difference  made  upon  its  pulsa- 
tion by  the  immersion  of  his  body  in  water ;  the  key  being,  as  was 
suspected,  in  his  waistcoat-pocket. 

t  It  was  dedicated  to  his  ultimate  friend,  the  late  Dr.  Alexander,  of 
Halifax.  Another  of  his  associates  was  the  late  Dr.  Sayers,  of  Nor- 
wich, whom  he  used  to  meet  subsequently,  during  his  frequent  visits  to 
that  city. 


40  LIFE    OF    THE  [1787. 

of  the  examination,  although  it  did  not  take  place  till 
between  ten  and  eleven  o'clock,  he  kept  the  Senatus 
Academicus  waiting  for  him  a  considerable  time.  "  For 
this  disrespectful  inattention,  he,  however,"  adds  Dr. 
Fleming,  "  abundantly  atoned  by  the  quickness  and 
dexterity  with  which  he  replied  to  the  different  objec- 
tions that  were  urged  against  his  positions." 

Having  obtained  his  diploma,  he  lingered  in  Edinburgh 
for  some  weeks  after  the  session  had  closed,  and  quitted 
it  finally  in  the  month  of  September  following,  with  a 
store  of  knowledge  more  varied  and  comprehensive,  than 
methodically  arranged,  or  concentrated  on  professional 
objects,  but  with  aroused  energies,  and  youthful  confi- 
dence in  the  future. 


1788.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  41 


CHAPTER  II. 

ARRIVAL  IN  LONDON  —  PERIOD   OF  POLITICAL  EXCITEMENT  —  CONTEMPLATES 
A  MEDICAL  APPOINTMENT   IN   BU88IA  —  MARRIAGE  —  PAMPHLET   ON   THE 

REGENCY  ABANDONS    THE    MEDICAL    FOB    THE    LEGAL    PROFESSION  

"VINDICLS:  GALLICS"  — "  FRIENDS  OF  THE  PEOPLE"  —  LETTER  TO  MR.  PITT 

CALLED  TO  THE  BAR CORRESPONDENCE   WITH  MR.  BURKE  VISIT  TO 

BEACONSFIELD — DEATH  OF  MRS.  MACKINTOSH  —  LETTER  TO  DR.  PARR. 

THE  time  when,  what  is  imputed  to  his  countrymen 
as  an  instinctive  inclination  towards  the  south  might  be 
indulged,  was  now  arrived,  and  Mr.  Mackintosh  repaired, 
for  the  first  time,  to  London,  in  the  beginning  of  the 
next  spring  (1788),  where  he  took  up  his  abode  as  a 
boarder,  in  the  house  of  Mr.  Fraser,  a  worthy  man,  and 
a  maternal  relation,  who  was  then  carrying  on  the  busi- 
ness of  a  wine  merchant  in  Clipstone  Street,  near  Fitzroy 
Square.  He  was  accompanied,  on  this  occasion,  by  one 
of  his  most  intimate  college  friends,  Mr.  Grant,  who  still 
survives,  but  not  in  a  state  of  health  to  supply  any 
memorials  of  what  passed  in  the  mind  of  his  companion 
at  that  moment  —  so  full  of  hope  and  fear  —  in  the  an- 
ticipations of  unaided  genius. 

The  scene  for  which  he  longed  was  now  before  him  • 
and  he  had  arrived  on  the  great  stage  of  action  at  a 
moment  sufficiently  distracting  for  one  of  more  advanced 
age,  and  more  settled  pursuits.  At  the  point  of  tune 
when  a  young  enthusiast  for  public  happiness  came  in 
contact  with  society,  it  was  already  heaving  with  the 
coming  storm,  which  was  so  soon  to  burst  over  a  neigh- 
bouring country,  and  eventually  to  shake  every  other 

to  its  lowest  foundations. 

4  * 


42  LIFE   OF   THE  [1788. 

To  recur  for  a  moment  to  the  circumstances  of  the 
period  —  in  France,  the  opposite  evils  and  errors  of  ac- 
tual legislation,  and  of  long  neglect,  were  keenly  felt. 
A  long  period  of  unprecedented  internal  peace  had 
indeed  in  those  countries  of  Europe,  in  which  civilisa- 
tion had  made  the  greatest  strides,  diffused  an  elegance 
of  manners,  a  toleration  and  liberality  of  thought,  and 
an  extent  of  information  unparalleled  in  the  past  history 
of  mankind.  The  progress  of  political  knowledge  and 
speculation,  even  while  it  was  unmarked,  or  considered 
only  as  idle  theory,  was  real  and  great.  Voltaire  had 
laughed  at  all  abuses,  and  sometimes  at  the  most  valuable 
truths.  Rousseau  had  laid  bare  the  very  foundations  of 
society ;  and  by  a  singular  union  of  metaphysical  thought, 
with  profound  and  eloquent  sensibility,  had  created  a 
numerous  body  of  disciples  of  every  class  and  rank. 
The  works  of  Montesquieu,  sage,  temperate,  and  preg- 
nant with  thought,  had  become  the  manual  of  statesmen 
and  philosophers.  The  speculations  derived  from  these 
sources,  long  silently  working  among  men  of  letters,  and, 
indeed,  among  readers  of  every  description  on  the  Con- 
tinent, had  rendered  familiar  many  opinions  and  prin- 
ciples, which,  though  considered  as  only  curious  and 
amusing  subjects  of  nearly  barren  political  disquisition, 
lay  in  their  minds,  and  formed  a  combustible  mass, 
ready  at  the  first  touch  to  be  roused  into  action,  with 
a  force  altogether  unsuspected  by  the  most  sanguine 
of  these  speculators  themselves.  The  reasonings  of  the 
economists,  though  exposed  to  ridicule  by  the  wits  and 
courtiers  of  the  time,  had  not  been  without  their  in- 
fluence. 

While  these  materials  were  mingling  and  fermenting 
in  the  public  mind,  two  great  events  gave  them  unlocked 
for  energy.  The  one  was  the  revolt  of  the  American 
colonies  from  England  j  the  other,  the  financial  bank- 


1788.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  43 

ruptcy  of  France.  The  former,  being  countenanced  by 
the  French  ministry,  accustomed  the  new  allies  of  the 
colonies  to  defend  their  interference  on  reasonings  drawn 
from  the  very  fundamental  principles  of  society,  and  to 
apply  to  actual  events,  discussions  that  had  always  before 
terminated  in  barren  generalities.  The  latter  induced 
the  government  to  invite  its  subjects,  at  a  crisis  of  ex- 
treme difficulty,  to  assist  it  in  the  management  of  national 
affairs.  It  is  to  be  recollected,  that  no  class  of  French- 
men had  ever  been  admitted  to  any  share  in  public 
affairs,  or  had  received  the  advantage  of  the  slightest 
training  in  the  practice,  even  of  provincial  or  municipal 
legislation ;  but,  on  this  invitation,  all  hurried  to  the 
work,  full  of  the  most  generous  intentions,  excited  by 
grand  and  swelling  plans,  long  indulged  and  cherished 
as  elegant  and  benevolent  theories.  The  accumulated 
abuses  of  long  years  of  mismanagement  unfortunately 
presented  too  many  objects  of  legitimate  attack  to  the 
honest,  but  inexperienced,  legislators,  who  longed  to 
improve  the  institutions  of  their  country.  It  would 
have  been  well,  had  the  sudden  consciousness  of  the 
possession  of  power  permitted  a  calm  and  discreet  exer- 
cise of  it.  The  scene  opened  to  their  view  was  totally 
new,  and  filled  them  with  generous  but  vague  dreams 
of  happiness  and  perfection. 

In  England,  where  various  classes  had  long  possessed 
a  share  in  the  government,  in  proportion  as  less  was  to 
be  done  the  ideas  of  men  were  more  precise  and  definite ; 
stih1,  however,  even  here  a  widely  extended  impression 
existed,  that  a  great  political  regeneration  was  at  hand ; 
and  numbers  of  the  best  informed  men  in  Europe,  in 
general,  looked  forward  to  a  grand  and  immediate  im- 
provement in  the  social  institutions  of  the  world.  The 
influence  of  these  opinions  pervaded  every  rank,  and  was 


44  LIFE    OF   THE  [1788. 

felt  in  every  company.  They  were  opposed  or  defended 
wherever  men  met  together.  In  the  debating  societies, 
which  had  long  existed  in  England,  and  had  been  fre- 
quented by  young  men,  especially  by  those  intending  to 
profess  the  practice  of  the  law,  as  schools  for  public 
speaking,  they  now  formed  the  chief  topic  of  discussion. 
New  clubs  or  societies  were  formed  by  men  of  weight 
and  importance  in  the  country,  for  the  express  object  of 
propagating  particular  opinions.  In  them,  the  events 
that  were  passing  in  France,  as  well  as  the  general  prin- 
ciples of  government,  were  freely  and  warmly  debated. 
To  a  young  man,  like  Mr.  Mackintosh,  a  period  of  such 
excitement  had  irresistible  allurements.  He  had  assi- 
duously cultivated  the  habits  of  public  speaking,  both  at 
Aberdeen  and  at  Edinburgh.  He  was  fond  of  moral 
and  political  controversy,  and  of  every  exercise  of  the 
reasoning  faculty.  That  freedom  of  thought  and  ex- 
pression which  had  marked  his  mind,  whilst  engaged  on 
abstract  subjects,  was  now  openly  before  his  eyes  applied 
to  the  practical  one  of  politics,  and  the  foundation  of 
opinions  upon  which  that  science  reclines,  were  laid  bare 
in  arenas  that  might  be  said  to  be  open  to  all. 

A  very  short  time  had  accordingly  elapsed  after  his 
arrival  in  London,  before,  at  a  meeting  of  one  of  the 
numerous  political  societies  of  the  period  ("  the  Society 
for  Constitutional  Information,"  of  which  most  of  the 
opposition,  and  other  eminent  persons,  were  members,) 
Mr.  Sharp*  was  much  struck  with  the  talent  exhibited 
by  a  young  man,  who  was  acting  hi  the  absence  of  the 
regular  secretary,  although  only  himself  just  admitted 
into  the  society.  An  immediate  acquaintance  was  the 
consequence ;  although  more  than  a  year  afterwards  Mr. 

*  Richard  Sharp,  Esq.,  late  M.  P.  for  Portarlington. 


1788.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  45 

Sharp  had  not  learxlt,  or  had  forgotten  the  name  of  his 
young  and  admired  friend.* 

To  another  scene  he  might  be  often  traced,  in  its  rela- 
tion to  events  long  by-gone,  and  scenes  on  the  other  side 
of  the  globe,  strongly  contrasting  with  the  momentary 
turmoil  that  surrounded  it.  Hastings'  trial  had  just 
began,  and  he  was  frequently  among  the  throng,  that 
crowded  Westminster  Hall  on  that  august  occasion,  listen- 
ing to  those  addresses  of  Burke  and  Sheridan  that  might 
rival  the  models  of  antiquity,  which  still  fired  his  imagi- 
nation. The  young  physician,  while  elevated  by  the 
powerful  declamation  of  the  English  orators  against  the 
real  or  supposed  oppressions  of  their  countrymen  in  the 
east,  was  little  aware,  that  his  own  future  lot  would  be 
to  administer  justice  and  protection  to  the  poor  Hindu 
in  that  distant  land. 

But  while  his  mind  was  thus  actively  employed  in  the 
exciting  scenes  around  him,  it  was  necessary  to  think  of 
the  concerns  of  life,  and  of  his  own  future  occupation  and 
station  in  society.  His  views  were  still  directed,  in  the 
first  instance  at  least,  to  the  medical  profession ;  and  both 
he  and  his  friends  looked  around  for  some  opening  that 
might  offer  an  advantageous  prospect  of  reputation  and 
emolument.  Among  those  who  most  assiduously  excited 
and  assisted  him  in  those  inquiries  was  his  maternal  re- 
lation and  adviser,  Dr.  Fraser,  then  an  eminent  physician 
at  Bath,  afterwards  settled  in  London.  This  gentleman, 
among  other  professional  views  for  his  young  friend,  had 
in  contemplation  an  establishment  in  St.  Petersburgh, 

*  Some  time  after  this,  at  a  great  public  dinner  in  1790,  Mr.  S. 
being  requested  by  Mr.  Shore  of  Sheffield,  to  introduce  him  to  Mr. 
Mackintosh,  replied  that  it  would  give  him  much  pleasure  to  introduce 
Mr.  Shore  to  any  one  that  he  knew,  but  that  he  did  not  know  Mr. 
Mackintosh.  "  Why  ! "  said  Mr.  Shore,  "  you  have  been  talking  to 
him  this  half  hour." 


46  LIFE   OF   THE  [1788. 

where  a  concurrence  of  favourable  circumstances  seemed 
to  promise  a  fair  opening  for  a  professional  settlement. 
Among  the  correspondence  on  this  subject  appears  the 
following  note,  addressed  to  whom  does  not  appear,  but 
which  may  be  curious,  as  serving  to  mark  the  commence- 
ment of  a  long  friendship. 

London,  \th  June,  1788. 

DEAR  SIR,  —  Since  I  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you 
this  morning,  I  have  met  with  a  gentleman  from  Scot- 
land, Dr.  Mackintosh,  who  proposes  soon  to  go  to  Russia 
as  a  physician.  He  is  nearly  connected  with  one  of  my 
most  intimate  friends,  and  has  the  reputation  of  uncom- 
mon abilities  in  the  line  of  his  profession.  If  it  is  in  your 
power  to  be  of  any  use  to  him,  by  giving  him  a  few 
recommendatory  letters  to  your  acquaintances,  you  will 
do  me  a  particular  favour.  Believe  me  ever,  my  dear  Sir, 

Most  faithfully  yours, 

DUGALD  STEWART. 

This  plan  was  not  carried  into  effect ;  and  it  is  proba- 
ble that  Mr.  Mackintosh  felt  little  regret  at  the  failure 
of  any  scheme,  which  would  have  removed  him  from  such 
a  scene  of  interest  and  enjoyment  as  London  then  pre- 
sented to  him.  The  unexciting  tenor  of  life,  which  the 
medical  profession  holds  out,  had  no  chance  in  the  strug- 
gle with  the  stirrings  of  ambition,  which  the  political 
excitement,  in  which  he  was  already  immersed,  could 
hardly  fail  to  cherish. 

Indeed,  amidst  the  novelties  and  distractions  of  his 
present  life,  his  mind  was  not  likely  to  be  reconciled  to' 
a  study  of  which  he  had  never  been  fond.  To  the  natu- 
ral sciences  connected  with  the  study  of  medicine  he  had 
always  shown  indifference,  if  not  dislike.  The  slow  re- 
sults of  experiment,  the  minute  investigation  of  nature, 
the  deductions  of  the  positive  sciences  had  no  charms  for 


1788.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  47 

him  —  mind  and  its  operations,  man  and  his  thoughts, 
actions  and  interests,  and  the  inquiries  connected  with 
them,  were  the  objects  of  his  unwearied  and  delighted 
study.  He  often,  in  later  times,  regretted  the  too  exclu- 
sive passion  with  which  he  had  pursued  these  branches 
of  knowledge,  however  noble  in  themselves.  This  pre- 
ference, adopted  early  in  life,  was  confirmed  by  the  natu- 
ral vivacity  of  his  mind,  his  love  of  conversation,  and  of 
those  acquirements,  which  were  best  fitted  to  give  it 
grace,  richness,  or  ease.  Even  at  this  early  period  he 
formed  the  delight  of  the  societies  which  he  frequented, 
not  so  much  by  the  extent  and  variety  of  his  knowledge, 
which  even  then  was  uncommon,  as  by  his  extraordinary 
flow  of  spirits,  and  lively  but  good-natured  wit.  He  had 
always,  even  as  a  student,  been  distinguished  by  the 
amenity  and  politeness  of  his  manners ;  and  he  was  now 
compelled  in  London,  as  he  had  formerly  been  in  Edin- 
burgh, to  pay  the  tax  of  these  agreeable  qualities.  His 
company  was  sought  after,  and  few  were  the  occupations 
which  induced  him  willingly  to  decline  a  pleasant  invita- 
tion. He  considered  the  mutual  communication  of  agree- 
able information,  and  the  interchange  of  social  feelings,  as 
not  the  least  valuable  object  of  human  existence.  Under 
these  circumstances,  it  is  not  surprising  that  his  high 
spirits,  and  vivid  enjoyment  of  the  company  of  his  friends, 
deprived,  as  he  now  was,  of  any  regular  study  or  occupa- 
tion, produced  the  natural  consequences,  and  that  for  a 
season,  he  gave  himself  more  up  to  the  jollity  and  thought- 
less pleasures  of  his  boon  companions  than  the  reflections 
of  his  quiet  moments  approved.  It  is  not  to  be  forgotten, 
either,  that  the  manners  of  the  times,  when  such  prac- 
tices, the  relics  of  barbarism  or  rusticity,  were  but  slowly 
withdrawing  even  from  the  higher  circles  of  society, 
were  infinitely  more  favourable  to  such  excesses  than 


48  LIFE   OF   THE  [1788. 

would  be  believed  by  those,  who  have  only  witnessed 
the  circumspection  of  the  present  age.  A  much  larger 
portion  of  dissipated  indulgence  was  overlooked  in  a 
young  man,  or  rather  was  believed  to  be  only  a  proof  of 
spirit,  and  a  necessary  part  of  his  career.  But  if  Mr. 
Mackintosh  had  not  prudence  sufficient  to  keep  him  from 
such  haunts,  his  education,  his  character,  his  manners,  the 
refinement  of  his  mind,  his  habits  of  study  and  medita- 
tion, which  never  forsook  him,  his  admiration  of  all  that 
was  elegant,  generous,  and  noble,  and  his  feelings  of 
right  kept  him  always  prepared  for  rousing  himself  from 
his  trance,  and  asserting  the  natural  elevation  of  his 
character. 

In  the  same  year  that  he  removed  to  London,  his 
father's  death  freed  him  from  the  little  controul  which  a 
soldier  of  careless  and  social  habits  had  attempted  to  exer- 
cise over  a  studious  youth.  His  long  absence  on  service, 
(during  which  the  boy  had  naturally  transferred  much  of 
his  affection  to  the  aunt  with  whom  he  had  lived,  and 
whose  kindness  to  his  childhood  was  ever  after  present 
to  his  memory)  naturally  tended  to  mitigate  the  sorrow, 
with  which  he  nevertheless  regarded  the  memory  of  his 
good-natured  and  generous  parent.  The  succession  to 
his  paternal  estate  at  Kellachie,  situate  amongst  the  hills 
on  the  upper  part  of  Strathdearn,  or  the  valley  of  the 
Findhorn,  in  Invernesshire,  brought  with  it  less  of  advan- 
tage at  the  moment,  as  it  was  burdened  by  an  annuity 
to  the  wife  of  a  former  proprietor,  who  continued  to 
survive.  Such  a  consideration  must  have  already  be- 
come one  of  pressing  interest  with  him.  His  habitual 
profusion  in  money  matters,  and  the  good-natured  rea- 
diness with  which  he  was  ever  prepared  to  share  the 
little,  which  would  have  been  adequate  to  his  own  few 
wants,  with  those  who  made  appeals  to  his  generous  sen- 


1788.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  49 

timents,  soon  brought  him  to  feel  the  pressure  of  pecu- 
niary difficulties.*  His  next  step  was  one  which  did  not 
appear,  at  first  view,  calculated  to  diminish  them ;  though 
to  it  he  probably  owed  eventually  an  escape  from  these, 
as  well  as  the  other  thraldoms  to  which  we  have  alluded. 
Perhaps  if  left  alone  in  the  struggle,  so  easy  and  ductile 
a  character  had  with  difficulty  escaped  at  all ;  however 
much  of  serious  foreboding  a  whole  year,  -confessedly 
misspent  at  that  important  period  of  life  (from  which  the 
remainder  is  so  apt  to  take  an  indelible  hue  either  of 
light  or  shade)  must  have  brought  with  it  to  awaken  and 
alarm  him.  No  man  was  ever  less  fitted  to  bear  up 
against  the  discomforts  of  private  or  solitary  uneasiness. 
He  always  distrusted  his  own  resolution,  and  yearned  for 
community  both  of  joy  and  suffering.  At  every  period 
of  his  life  he  sought  for  some  one,  even  though  feebler 
than  himself,  on  whom  he  could  lean  in  his  distresses. 
He  above  all  delighted  in  the  ease  and  tenderness  of 
female  society.  At  the  period  of  which  we  speak,  the 
past  was  beginning  to  present  no  very  animating  retro- 
spect, and  the  future  was  less  cheering  still,  when  a 
change  was  wrought  in  his  feelings  and  habits  by  the  in- 
cident to  which  we  allude. 

Among  the  friends  of  Mr.  Eraser,  Miss  Catharine 
Stuart,  a  young  lady  of  a  respectable  Scotch  family,  was 
a  frequent  visiter  at  his  house.  There  Mr.  Mackintosh 
often  met  her,  and  his  first  sentiments  of  esteem  soon 
ripened  into  feelings  of  attachment.  She  was  less  re- 
markable for  her  personal  .attractions  than  for  a  rich  fund 
of  good  sense,  which,  under  gentle  and  unpretending 

*  So  averse  was  he  to  all  details  of  business,  even  the  little  which  his 
small  estate  required,  that  the  gentlemen,  who  had  undertaken  the 
management  of  it,  finding  it  hopeless  to  expect  to  extract  an  answer 
from  him  to  a  letter  of  business,  at  last  thought  it  due  to  themselves 
formally  to  abandon  their  trust. 
VOL.  I.  5 


50  LIFE    OF   THE  [1788. 

manners,  was  directed  by  a  strong  mind  and  an  affec- 
tionate heart.  Her  new  acquaintance,  one  of  whose 
pleasures  at  all  times  it  was  to  sound  the  intellects,  and 
study  the  character  of  those  in  whose  company  he  was 
thrown,  was  delighted  to  find  himself  understood  and 
valued  by  one  so  young  and  amiable.  He  daily  took 
more  pleasure  in  her  conversation  and  society,  and  the 
pleasure  was  mutual.  Though  her  circumstances  were  as 
limited  as  his  own,  his  affection  led  him  to  propose  and  to 
urge  an  immediate  union.  The  marriage  took  place  pri- 
vately in  Mary-le-bone  church*  on  the  18th  February,  in 
the  following  year,  on  which  day  he  found  himself,  at  the 
age  of  twenty-four,  with  no  prospect  of  any  immediate 
professional  settlement,  with  his  little  fortune  rapidly  di- 
minishing, and  with  a  wife.  The  relations  of  both  parties 
were  seriously  and  justly  offended  at  the  rash  proceeding ; 
and  the  young  couple  had  the  difficulties,  which  necessa- 
rily surrounded  them,  aggravated  by  the  strongest  ex- 
pressions of  disapprobation  from  all  their  friends. 

The  new  situation,  on  which  he  had  entered,  formed,  in 
his  own  thoughts,  a  marked  era  in  his  life,  and  called  him 
to  the  exercise  of  new  duties,  of  which  his  mind  had  al- 
ways been  too  impartial,  and  his  judgment  too  sound,  not 
to  estimate  the  true  dignity.  His  feelings  at  every  period 
of  his  life  were  essentially  domestic,  and  even  when  most 
fond  of  company,  he  returned  with  pleasure  to  the  simple 
enjoyments  of  the  circle  at  home.  He  was  easily  amused. 
His  good-nature  made  it  painful  to  him  to  give  un- 
easiness to  any  one  near  him.  His  love  of  study,  the 
refinement  of  manners  it  cherishes,  his  turn  for  moral 
disquisition,  and  the  high  aspirations  which  never  forsook 
him,  his  very  love  of  good  and  polished  society  were 

*  Miss  Stuart,  at  the  time  of  the  marriage,  resided  with  her  brothers 
Charles  and  Daniel,  well  known  respectively  in  the  literary  and  political 
circles  of  London. 


1789.]  EIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  51 

powerful  auxiliaries  to  withdraw  him  from  his  failings. 
Happily  Mrs.  Mackintosh's  dispositions  were  such  as  lent 
them  the  most  efficient  aid.  She  not  only  loved  her  hus- 
band, but  was  proud  of  his  superior  talents ;  with  anxious 
solicitude  and  exemplary  patience  she  studied  every 
means  within  her  reach  of  recalling  him  to  the  habitual 
and  methodical  exercise  of  his  abilities.  She  rendered 
home  agreeable  to  him  and  to  his  friends.  She  bore  with 
his  infirmities  without  murmuring,  counselled  him  with 
tenderness,  encouraged  him  to  exertion.  Her  firm  prac- 
tical understanding  speedily  gained  an  useful  influence 
over  his  kind  and  yielding  nature  —  an  influence  which 
she  never  lost,  and  which,  to  the  last,  she  attempted  to 
employ  for  his  benefit  and  that  of  their  children. 

The  malady  which  unhappily  attacked  the  king,  in  the 
autumn  of  1788,  had  absorbed  for  a  time  the  public  ai/- 
tention.  Mr.  Mackintosh  warmly  partook  in  the  general 
interest,  and  his  professional  pursuits  excited  him  to 
study  the  fine  but  mysterious  link,  which  connects  the 
human  mind  with  the  changes  in  the  organisation  of 
the  body ;  the  subject  was  one  that  claimed  all  the 
powers  of  such  as,  like  him,  had  made  the  philosophy  of 
mind,  as  well  as  the  structure  of  the  human  frame,  the 
object  of  study.  While  this  event  occupied  the  public 
attention,  he  advertised  a  work  on  insanity,  and  a  con- 
siderable portion  of  it  was  written.  But  the  struggle 
regarding  the  Regency,  which  soon  followed  the  an- 
nouncement of  his  Majesty's  illness,  probably  gave  his 
thoughts  another  direction,  and  one  more  congenial  to 
the  turn  which,  for  some  time  before,  his  wishes  had 
taken.  This  struggle  of  the  two  great  parties  of  the 
State  was  the  occasion  of  a  pamphlet,  supporting  the 
analogy  which  Mr.  Fox  endeavoured  to  establish  between 
the  then  existing  circumstances  and  a  natural  demise  of 


52  LIFE    OF   THE  [1789. 

the  crown.*  It  is  not  necessary  here  to  enlarge  on  the 
reasoning  contained  in  the  pamphlet,  as  unfortunately 
the  renewal  of  the  calamity  at  a  much  later  date  gave 
the  author  another  opportunity  of  reviewing  the  argu- 
ments on  the  subject,  an  opportunity  of  which,  it  will 
be  seen,  he  availed  himself. 

The  decided  turn  for  politics  which  his  mind  had  now 
taken,  was  further  evinced  at  the  election  for  Westmin- 
ster, in  June  of  the  following  year,  by  the  zeal  with  which 
he  espoused  the  cause  of  Mr.  Home  Tooke,  one  of  the 
candidates.  A  person  who  was  interested  in  his  success 
in  life,  writing  to  a  friend  in  the  Highlands,  laments  this 
apparent  dereliction  of  his  professional  pursuits :  "  In- 
stead of  attending  to  his  business,"  says  he,  "  my  gentleman 
was  parading  the  streets  with  Home  Tooke's  colours  in 
his  hat."  It  was  probably  on  this  occasion  that  he  first 
made  the  acquaintance  of  that  eminent  politician,  in 
whose  sarcastic,  but  rich  and  lively  conversation,  he 
always  took  great  delight ;  and  at  a  later  period  he  was 
a  frequent  guest  at  the  Sunday  parties  at  Wimbledon, 
where  so  many  men  of  eminence  in  politics  and  letters 
were  accustomed  to  meet.  Mr.  Tooke  entertained  a 
high  opinion  of  his  talents  for  argument,  and  it  was  no 
small  praise  from  so  good  a  judge,  "that  he  was  a  very 
formidable  adversary  across  a  table" f 

Urged  probably  by  the  demands  which  his  new  state 
enforced,  Mr.  Mackintosh  made,  however,  another  effort 
to  settle  himself  in  practice,  as  a  physician.  He  repaired 
to  Bath,  where  his  faithful  adviser,  Dr.  Eraser,  who  was 

*  The  Prince  of  Wales  always  professed  a  kindly  recollection  of  the 
service  thus  done  to  his  cause,  when  they  afterwards  met,  as  they  oc- 
casionally did,  at  Hothfield,  the  late  Earl  of  Thanet's  hospitable  man- 
sion in  Kent ;  and  he  showed  that  he  had  not  forgotten  it,  even  after 
Mr.  M.'s  return  from  India, 

t  Stephen's  Life  of  Home  Tooke,  vol.  ii.  p.  334. 


1789.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  53 

at  all  times  warmly  disposed  to  serve  his  young  kinsman, 
enjoyed  a  considerable  share  of  eminence.  Under  the 
Doctor's  advice  he  attempted  to  avail  himself  of  what 
seemed  a  promising  opportunity  for  a  professional  set- 
tlement, first  at  Salisbury  and  afterwards  at  Weymouth ; 
but  whether  or  not  any  real  objections  came  in  aid  of 
his  distaste  for  his  profession,  and  his  unwillingness  to 
leave  London,  the  grand  scene  for  talent  and  ambition, 
the  plan  was  abandoned ;  from  Bath  he  wrote  a  letter 
to  his  aunt  in  the  Highlands,  u  at  the  first  moment  of 
tranquillity,"  he  observes,  "  that  he  had  enjoyed  for  nine 
months,"  and  adds,  that  "  he  had  escaped  from  a  life,  in 
which  might  Heaven  preserve  him  from  being  again 
immerged." 

The  following  autumn  was  occupied  by  a  tour,  in 
company  with  his  wife,  through  the  Low  Countries  to 
Brussels,  and  a  residence  there  of  some  duration,  during 
which,  while  he  acquired  an  uncommon  facility  in  the  use 
of  the  French  tongue,  he  at  the  same  time  obtained  some 
insight  into  the  causes,  and  chances  of  success  in  the 
struggle  which  was  then  going  on  between  the  emperor 
Joseph  and  his  refractory  subjects  in  the  Netherlands. 
This  knowledge  he  turned  to  account  on  his  return  to 
London,  towards  the  end  of  the  year,  by  contributing 
most  of  the  articles  on  the  affairs  of  Belgium  and  France 
to  the  "  Oracle  "  newspaper,  conducted  at  that  time  by 
Mr.  John  Bell,  with  whom  an  engagement  had  been 
made  by  a  mutual  friend  for  "  Doctor  "  Mackintosh  —  a 
title  which  is  said  to  have  had  some  influence  in  the  bar- 
gain, as  conveying  a  favourable  impression  of  the  dignity 
of  the  new  ally.  This  species  of  writing,  not  requiring 
continued  application,  appears  to  have  fallen  in  with  his 
desultory  habits,  and  he  laboured  in  his  new  vocation 
of  "  superintending  the  foreign  news,"  with  great  in 
dustry.  "  One  week,  we  are  told,  being  paid  in  pro- 

5* 


54  LIFE    OF   THE  [1789. 

portion  to  the  quantity,  his  due  was  ten  guineas ; "  at 
which  John  Bell,  a  liberal  Inan,  was  rather  confounded, 
exclaiming,  "  no  paper  can  stand  this."  After  this  un- 
fortunate explosion  of  industry,  the  exuberance  of  his 
sallies  in  the  cause  of  Belgian  and  French  freedom  was 
repressed  by  a  fixed  salary,  which  he  continued  to  enjoy 
till  the  increasing  returns  from  his  property,  and  aug- 
mented ease  of  his  circumstances,  allowed  him  more  to 
consult  his  own  inclination,  as  to  the  mode  in  which  his 
talents  and  industry  should  be  employed. 

To  the  same  date  must  be  referred  his  resolution  to 
devote  himself  to  the  study  of  the  law.  The  exercise 
of  such  powers,  as  he  must  have  been  conscious  of  pos- 
sessing, in  the  obscure  columns  of  a  newspaper,  could 
not  fail  to  be  sufficiently  irksome;  although  the  only 
attempt,  which  he  had  as  yet  made  in  a  higher  walk, 
had  not  been  very  encouraging.  It  might  be  adduced 
as  an  additional  example,  if  one  were  needed,  to  show 
how  indispensably  necessary  time  and  occasion  are  for 
the  development  even  of  the  highest  powers.  There  is 
no  doubt  that  his  style  was  now  formed,  as  well  as,  in  a 
great  degree,  the  powers  of  his  mind  developed ;  but 
the  most  successful  efforts  of  ability,  the  utmost  splen- 
dour of  language,  are  often  passed  over  unheeded,  or 
make  but  a  feeble  or  temporary  impression,  when  met 
with  where  we  look  for  neither.* 

On  his  return  from  a  visit  to  the  Highlands,  made 
during  the  next  summer,  he  removed  from  Buckingham- 
street,  which  had  been  his  residence  for  some  time,  to  a 

*  It  may  interest  some  to  point  out  two  contributions  to  newspapers 
that  certainly  were  from  his  pen  :  —  the  letters  with  the  signature  of 
"  the  ghost  of  Vandeput,"  and  a  character  of  Mirabeau  in  the  Chronicle, 
which  concluded  with,  "who  bursting  from  obscurity  and  obloquy, 
seized  as  his  natural  situation  the  first  place  in  the  first  scene  that  was 
ever  acted  in  the  theatre  of  human  affairs." 


1790.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  55 

small  house  in  the  village  of  Little  Ealing,  in  Middlesex. 
There  in  comparative  retirement  he  was  partially  relieved 
from  the  feverish  state  of  political  feeling  which  marked 
that  period,  and  in  which  his  own  mind  had  for  some  time 
so  deeply  shared.  Eager  and  anxious  as  was  the  gaze 
of  all  who  watched  the  advance  of  "  that  great  political 
heresy,  whose  path  was  all  strewed  over  with  the  broken 
talismans  of  rank  and  power,"  the  interest  with  which 
he  had  viewed  the  progress  of  the  revolution  was  of  no 
common  kind ;  some  idea  of  it  may  be  collected  from 
the  bitterness  of  disappointment,  which  was  ultimately 
in  store  for  him,  as  described  in  his  own  words  long 
afterwards ;  but  the  present  was  still  a  day,  if  not  of 
triumph,  at  least  of  hope.  While  he  was  cultivating  his 
powers  in  retirement,  the  influence  of  the  contest,  which 
had  so  long  convulsed  France,  began  to  be  felt  in 
England  also,  and  soon  divided  that  powerful  Whig  party 
which  for  so  many  years  had  supported  the  principles 
of  the  Revolution  of  1688.  The  first  marked  and  de- 
cided evidence  of  a  diversity  of  opinions,  that  promised 
to  be  irreconcilable,  was  afforded  by  the  publication  of 
Mr.  Burke's  "  Reflections  on  the  French  Revolution." 

The  extraordinary  effects  produced  by  the  appearance 
of  this  work,  which  to  common  observers  seemed  at 
variance  with  the  former  life  and  opinions  of  the  author, 
is  well  known.  To  all  the  advantages  which  practised 
eloquence  could  lend  to  genius  —  to  all  the  grace  which 
both  borrow  from  evident  singleness  of  purpose,  it  joined 
all  those  other  still  more  powerful  claims  on  the  hearts 
of  his  countrymen,  which  were  associated  with  its  author's 
name.  To  the  many,  too,  it  seemed  a  greater  sacrifice 
of  consistency  than  it  really  was.  In  proportion  as  they 
had  been  ignorant  that  "an  abhorrence  for  abstract 
politics,  a  predilection  for  aristocracy,  and  a  dread  of 
innovation,"  had  always  been  articles  of  his  political 


56  LIFE   OF   THE  [1790. 

creed,  did  they  magnify  the  sense  of  public  duty  which 
prompted,  first,  the  sacrifice  of  the  long  cherished  friend- 
ship with  Mr.  Fox,  and  lastly,  the  publication  of  the 
affectionate  warnings  of  (what  appeared)  matured  wis- 
dom. The  skill  of  the  orator,  also,  had  been  successfully 
employed,  in  turning  the  eyes  of  the  multitude  from 
the  great  body  of  the  suffering  nation,  and  the  real 
friends  of  rational  liberty  in  the  French  assembly,  to 
the  sorrowing  group  of  Royalty  placed  so  carefully 
in  the  foreground.  But  whatever  there  might  be  of 
casual  or  temporary  in  this  work,  the  confession  could 
not  but  be  general  of  its  real  and  intrinsic  merits.  It 
contained  maxims  of  political  wisdom  which  had  long 
been  revolved  and  matured  in  the  mind  of  the  author, — 
one  of  the  first  thinkers,  as  well  as  one  of  the  greatest 
orators  of  his  age.  He  was  a  man  who  hardly  ever 
skimmed  slightly  or  carelessly  over  any  subject  which 
engaged  his  attention.  He  grappled  boldly  with  diffi- 
culties, and  declined  no  contest,  strong  in  his  love  of 
truth,  and  confident  in  the  powers  of  his  capacious  un- 
derstanding. His  accurate  meditations  extended  into 
every  branch  of  human  knowledge,  and  he  was  always 
profound  and  original.  His  whole  life  had  been  devoted 
to  improving  the  condition  of  his  country,  generally, 
indeed,  in  the  ranks  of  opposition,  in  the  exercise  of 
a  duty  more  advantageous  to  the  public  than  to  the 
individual  who  labours  in  their  cause.  His  thoughts 
were  conveyed  in  that  burning  eloquence,  and  in  those 
new  and  vivid  expressions,  which,  while  they  hurried 
away  the  reader,  marked  the  tempest  that  was  boiling 
within ;  and  thus,  in  part,  accounted  for  the  extreme 
to  which  he  carried  his  opinions,  and  the  jealousy  and 
derision  with  which  he  marked  the  excesses  of  infant 
liberty.  But  his  work,  with  all  its  faults,  was  the  pro- 
duction of  a  powerful  mind,  working  in  its  own  sphere  ; 


1790.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR    JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  57 

and  the  madness  and  cruelty  of  the  detestable  men,  who 
soon  after  gained  the  ascendancy  in  France,  corresponded 
so  much  with  the  predictions  of  his  heated  imagination, 
that  he  was  lauded  by  the  new  friends  whose  views  he 
favoured  less  as  a  keen  observer  than  as  a  prophet. 

The  replies  to  the  "Eeflections"  must  have  been 
numerous  enough  to  have  gratified  the  pride  of  the 
author.  The  number  of  antagonists,  who  hurried  into 
the  ring  to  break  a  lance  against  this  mighty  champion  of 
existing  institutions,  proved  the  estimation  in  which  he 
was  held.  The  current  of  opinion,  that  had  been  setting 
in  so  strongly  in  favour  of  the  French  principles  of 
liberty,  dammed  up  for  a  moment  by  such  an  obstacle, 
overflowed  in  a  deluge  of  pamphlets ;  and  each  shade  of 
opinion  was  warmly  defended  against  a  common  invader. 
The  great  majority  of  these* answers  fell  of  course  speedily 
into  oblivion.  The  "Rights  of  Man"  was  not  so  to  perish. 
His  strong  coarse  sense,  and  bold  dogmatism,  conveyed 
in  an  instinctively  popular  style,  made  Paine  a  dangerous 
enemy  always ;  but  more  particularly  at  a  period  when 
the  great  masses  of  the  middle  and  lower  orders  of  both 
countries  were  to  be  appealed  to.  Nor  was  he  occa- 
sionally wanting  in  the  more  finished  graces  of  illus- 
tration and  imagery  so  profusely  scattered  over  the 
«  Reflections."  * 

While  Mr.  Burke  was  receiving  the  onset  of  the  man 
who  had  been  his  old  fellow-soldier  in  the  American 
contest  for  freedom,  and  while  the  public  eye  was  fixed 
with  curiosity  on  the  numerous  combatants,  who  rushed 
to  take  a  part  in  this  political  warfare,  a  bolt  was  shot 
from  amongst  the  undistinguished  crowd,  but  with  a 
force  which  shewed  the  vigour  of  no  common  arm.  The 

*  Even  Mr.  Burke  himself  might  have  envied  the  illustration  of  his 
own  rather  too  exclusive  compassion  for  the  sufferings  of  the  noblesse. 
"  Mr.  Burke  pities  the  plumage,  but  he  forgets  the  dying  bird." 


58  LIFE   OF   THE  [1791. 

Vindiciae  Gallicae  was  published  in  the  month  of  April, 
1791.  Although  the  work  had  been  begun  some  time 
before,  the  many  distractions  of  society,  encroaching 
upon  the  small  portion  of  time  which  the  author 
could  be  brought  to  devote  to  the  manual  labour  of 
composition  (for  in  thought  he  was  always  busy)  had 
delayed  its  execution.  Events  were  in  the  meantime 
succeeding  each  other  with  such  rapidity  on  the  scene 
of  action  at  Paris,  that,  if  there  was  to  be  any  relation 
between  the  argument  and  the  facts  as  they  existed  at 
the  moment  of  publication,  there  could  be  no  longer 
delay.  It  was  accordingly  finished  in  a  great  hurry,  of 
which  it  bears  internal  marks,  the  first  part  having 
been,  as  was  said,  committed  to  the  press  before  the 
last  was  written.  Such  as  it  was,  it  at  once  placed  its 
author,  at  the  age  of  twenty-six,  in  the  very  first 
rank  of  the  great  party  who  were  upholding  in  this 
country  the  cause  of  France,  which  could  scarcely  at  that 
moment  be  said  to  have  ceased  to  be  the  cause  of  rational 
freedom.  He  was  courted  and  caressed  on  all  hands : 
his  company  was  eagerly  sought  for.  In  short,  he  was, 
as  he  expressed  it  himself,  for  a  few  months,  "  the  lion 
of  the  place,"  —  a  character,  of  which  the  simplicity  and 
modesty  of  his  nature  did  not  very  well  adapt  him  to 
discharge  the  functions,  or  lead  him  to  wish  the  pro- 
longed enjoyment. 

The  sale  of  the  book,  in  the  meantime,  exceeded  all 
expectation ;  and  three  editions  followed  one  another 
with  great  rapidity.*  It  is  difficult  to  convey  any  idea 

'  The  price  originally  agreed  to  be  paid  was  only  301. ;  but  when 
the  demand  for  it  became  so  great,  and  the  publication  turned  out  so 
profitable,  the  publisher,  George  Robinson,  a  liberal  and  excellent 
man,  repeated  several  times  the  original  amount.  The  smallness  of 
the  price  may,  perhaps,  in  part,  be  accounted  for,  from  the  work  hav- 
ing been  sold  before  it  was  written,  and  from  the  author  himself  having 


1791.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  59 

of  the  impression  made  by  this  production,  considered 
merely  as  a  confessedly  temporary  effort,  directed  to  the 
advancement  of  a  particular  end. 

"  Those  who  remember,"  says  the  eloquent  author  of 
the  '  Pleasures  of  Hope/  "  the  impression  that  was  made 
by  Burke's  writings  on  the  then  living  generation,  will  re- 
collect that,  in  the  better  educated  classes  of  society,  there 
was  a  general  proneness  to  go  with  Burke  ;  and  it  is  my 
sincere  opinion,  that  that  proneness  would  have  become 
universal,  if  such  a  mind  as  Mackintosh's  had  not  pre- 
sented itself,  like  a  breakwater,  to  the  general  spring- 
tide of  Burkism.  I  may  be  reminded  that  there  was 
such  a  man  as  Thomas  Paine,  and  that  he  strongly 
answered  at  the  bar  of  public  opinion  all  the  arguments 
of  Burke.  I  do  not  deny  this  fact ;  and  I  should  be  sorry 
if  I  could  be  blind,  even  with  tears,  for  Mackintosh,  in  my 
eyes,  to  the  services  that  have  been  rendered  to  the  cause 
of  truth,  by  the  shrewdness  and  the  courage  of  Thomas 
Paine.  But  without  disparagement  to  Paine,  in  a  great 
and  essential  view,  it  must  be  admitted  that,  though 
radically  sound  in  sense,  he  was  deficient  in  the  strate- 
getics  of  philosophy ;  whilst  Mackintosh  met  Burke, 

an  imperfect  idea  of  the  extent  to  which  it  was  to  run.  His  habits  of 
literary  composition  were  rather  peculiar.  When  engaged  in  any 
work  that  required  reflection,  he  was  in  general  impatient  of  the 
presence  of  any  person  near  him,  or  in  the  same  room.  Perhaps,  in 
London,  the  book  would  never  have  been  finished.  In  the  comparative 
quiet  of  Little  Baling,  however,  while  writing,  he  wished  Mrs.  M.  to 
remain  in  the  same  room  with  him ;  but,  as  the  slightest  movement, 
such  as  writing  or  working,  disturbed  him,  he  asked  her  to  confine 
herself  to  silently  perusing  her  book.  As  he  advanced,  he  took 
pleasure  in  his  work  ;  and,  in  the  evening,  by  way  of  recreation,  was 
accustomed  to  take  a  walk  across  the  fields,  reading  to  his  wife  as  he 
went  along.  Indeed,  at  every  period  of  his  life,  when  not  engaged 
with  company,  he  was  hardly  ever  to  be  found  without  a  book  in  his 
hand,  which  he  was  fond  of  reading  aloud,  and  commenting  upon  to 
his  friends. 


60  .  LIFE    OF   THE  [1791. 

perfectly  his  equal  in  the  tactics  of  moral  science,  and  in 
beauty  of  style  and  illustration.  Hence  Mackintosh 
went,  as  the  apostle  of  liberalism,  among  a  class,  perhaps 
too  influential  in  society,  to  whom  the  manner  of  Paine 
was  repulsive.  Paine  had  something  of  a  coarse  hatred 
towards  Burke.  Mackintosh  abhorred  Burke's  prin- 
ciples, but  he  had  a  chivalrous  admiration  of  his  genius. 
He  could  foil  him,  moreover,  at  his  own  weapons.  He 
was  logician  enough  to  detect  the  sophist  by  the  rules 
of  logic,  and  he  turned  against  Burke,  not  only  popular 
opinion,  but  classical  and  tasteful  feelings."  * 

A  fair  medium  of  judgment,  as  to  the  abilities  displayed 
in  this  work,  is  the  singular  honour  which  it  enjoyed,  of 
the  praise  of  both  Fox  and  Burke.  That  of  the  latter 
must  of  course  be  considered  as  confined  to  the  execution, 
and  to  that  liberality  of  thought,  and  gentlemanly  feel- 
ing, that  breathed  through  the  whole.  The  "  Vindicise 

*  "  In  Mackintosh  I  see  the  sternness  of  a  republican,  without  his 
acrimony  ;  and  the  ardour  of  a  reformer,  without  his  impetuosity.  His 
taste  in  morals,  like  that  of  Mr.  Burke's,  is  equally  pure  and  delicate 
with  his  taste  in  literature.  His  mind  is  so  comprehensive  that  gene- 
ralities cease  to  be  barren  ;  and  so  vigorous,  that  detail  itself  becomes 
interesting.  He  introduces  every  question  with  perspicuity,  states  it 
with  precision,  and  pursues  it  with  easy  unaffected  method.  Some- 
times, perhaps,  he  may  amuse  his  readers  with  excursions  into  paradox, 
but  he  never  bewilders  them  by  flights  into  romance.  His  philosophy 
is  far  more  just  and  far  more  amiable  than  the  philosophy  of  Paine  ; 
and  his  eloquence  is  only  not  equal  to  the  eloquence  of  Burke.  He  is 
argumentative  without  sophistry,  and  sublime  without  extravagance." 
Parr,  sequel  to  the  printed  letter. 

If  the  above  estimate  of  the  success  of  the  author  should  appear  to 
require  confirmation,  as  being  tinctured  with  the  prejudices  arising 
from  community  of  political  feeling,  it  received  such  confirmation  at 
the  hands  of  a  decided,  though  candid,  political  enemy.  Mr.  Canning, 
dining  one  day,  tete-a-tete,  at  Bellamy's,  with  Mr.  Sharp,  in  the  course 
of  conversation  observed,  that  he  had  read  this  work  on  its  coming  out 
"  with  as  much  admiration  as  he  had  ever  felt," 


1791.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR    JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  61 

Gallicse,"  observes  his  able  biographer,  "was  the  pro- 
duction of  a  more  sober  inquirer,  a  scholar  and  a  gentle- 
man, who  could  advocate  what  he  thought  freedom  hi 
others,  without  madly  assaulting  the  foundations  of  our 
own."  * 

"An  honourable  gentleman,"  said  Mr.  Fox  some  tune 
subsequently  in  the  House  of  Commons,  "  has  quoted  a 
most  able  book  on  the  subject  of  the  French  revolution, 
the  work  of  Mr.  Mackintosh ;  and  I  rejoice  to  see  that 
gentleman  begin  to  acknowledge  the  merits  of  that 
eminent  writer;  and  that  the  impression  that  it  made 
upon  me  at  the  time  is  now  felt  and  acknowledged,  even 
by  those  who  disputed  its  authority.  The  honourable 
gentleman  has  quoted  Mr.  Mackintosh's  book,  on  account 
of  the  observation  which  he  made  on  the  article  which 
relates  to  the  French  elections.  I  have  not  forgotten 
the  sarcasms  that  were  flung  out,  on  my  approbation  of 
this  celebrated  work :  that  I  was  told  of  my  'new  library 
stuffed  with  the  jargon  of  the  Rights  of  Man.'  It  now 
appears,  however,  that  I  did  not  greatly  over-rate  this 
performance ;  and  that  those  persons  now  quote  Mr. 
Mackintosh  as  an  authority,  who  before  treated  him  with 
splenetic  scorn." 

It  was  no  vanity  to  expect  that  anything  which  united 
these  suffrages  would  survive  the  occasion  which  called  it 
forth ;  and  it  must  be  allowed,  that  though  the  more 
immediate  object  of  the  work  was  temporary,  the  prin- 
ciples discussed,  the  maxims  established,  the  views  of 
society  and  of  policy,  which  formed  the  ground-work  of 
the  whole,  were  not  casual,  but,  like  many,  struck  out 
from  the  mind  of  his  illustrious  antagonist,  of  permanent 
and  universal  import. 

*  Prior's  Life  of  Burke,  vol.  ii.  p.  121. 
VOL.  I.  6 


62  LIFE   OF   THE  [1791. 

The  form  of  an  Essay,  indeed,  demanded  more  me- 
thodical arrangement,  and  closer  reasoning,  than  it  must 
be  confessed  was  observed  in  the  "  Reflections,"  the 
epistolary  privileges  of  which  conferred  such  advantages 
upon  a  man  of  genius  over  ordinary  men.  "  He  can 
cover  the  most  ignominious  retreat  by  a  brilliant  allusion. 
He  can  parade  his  arguments  with  masterly  generalship, 
where  they  are  strong.  He  can  escape  from  an  unte- 
nable position  into  a  splendid  declamation.  He  can  sap 
the  most  impregnable  conviction  by  pathos,  and  put  to 
flight  a  host  of  syllogisms  with  a  sneer.  Absolved  from 
the  laws  of  vulgar  method,  he  can  advance  a  group  of 
magnificent  horrors  to  make  a  breach  in  our  hearts, 
through  which  the  most  undisciplined  rabble  of  arguments 
may  enter  in  triumph."  After  observing,  that  "  analysis 
and  method,  like  the  discipline  and  armour  of  modern 
nations,  correct,  in  some  measure,  the  inequalities  of 
controversial  dexterity ;  and  level  on  the  intellectual 
field  the  giant  and  the  dwarf,"  Mr.  Mackintosh  proceeds 
to  analyse  the  contents  of  the  "Reflections;"  and,  dis- 
missing what  is  extraneous  and  ornamental,  to  arrange 
in  then-  natural  order  those  leading  questions,  the  decision 
of  which  was  indispensable  to  the  point  at  issue,  and  his 
attempts  at  their  just  solution.  The  expediency  and 
necessity  of  a  revolution  being  first  contended  for,  the 
conduct  of  the  National  Assembly,  the  first  actors  in  the 
elaboration  of  that  fearful  experiment,  is  considered,  in 
connection  with  all  the  allowances  due  to  the  difficulties 
of  the  task  in  which  they  were  engaged,  and  vindicated, 
as  far  as  the  result  was  then  manifested  in  the  new  con- 
stitution of  France.  The  almost  necessary  adjunct  of 
evil — the  popular  excesses,  which  marked  the  period  of 
the  suspension  of  law,  are  also  considered,  and  reprobated, 
but  in  terms  only  proportionate  to  their  comparative 


1791.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  63 

insignificance,  when  compared  with  those  which  were  to 
follow.  The  conduct  of  the  English  well-wishers  of 
French  freedom  forms  the  last  topic;  "though  it  is, 
with  rhetorical  inversion,  first  treated  by  Mr.  Burke,  as 
if  the  propriety  of  approbation  should  be  determined 
before  the  discussion  of  the  merit  or  demerit  of  what  was 
approved." 

While  it  was  allowed,  on  all  hands,  that  the  work  was 
the  production  of  a  mind  burning  with  love  of  liberty 
and  of  mankind,  and  that  it  abounded  with  new  and 
original  views  of  many  of  the  most  important  questions 
in  politics,*  amongst  nearer  observers,  perhaps,  the  sub- 
ject of  highest  commendation,  was  this  logical  precision, 
observable  through  the  rich  and  elegant  style  in  which 
the  arguments  were  clothed. 

*  A  copy  of  the  book  was  presented  to  Mr.  William  Taylor,  of 
Norwich,  who  returned  his  thanks  in  the  following  sonnet. 

Brave  youth,  thou  foremost  of  the  patriot  throng, 

Kneel  yet  awhile,  and  scoop  with  deeper  shell, 
And  boldly  quaff,  and  bathe  thy  glowing  tongue 

In  the  pure  spring-head  of  my  hallowed  well, 
While  yet  concealed,  the  mouldering  trunks  among, 

Where  Error  steeps  in  mist  her  twilight  cell, 
And  Superstition's  reptiles  crawl  along — 

But  for  the  chosen  few  its  waters  swell. 
My  name  is  Truth — soon  the  blast  roars  amain, 

Fires  lightning-kindled  the  tall  oaks  imblaze, 
Avenging  thunders  crash,  while  Freedom's  fane 

Arises  radiant  from  the  smoking  plain. 
Huge  columns  thou  must  rear — thy  future  days 

A  nation's  thanks  await — the  sage's  praise. 

"Chance,"  adds  Mr.  Taylor  (1834),  "which  delights  to  laugh  at 
human  foresight,  may  have  deflected  its  prophetic  value  — '  the  huge 
columns  thou  must  rear,'  is  become  rather  ludicrous — but  this  falls  on 
the  poet." 


64  LIFE    OF   THE  [1791. 

The  following  extract  contains  a  retrospect  of  the 
attempts  which  had  preceded  the  present,  to  repair  the 
tottering  fabric  of  the  French  monarchy. 

"  From  the  conclusion  of  the  fifteenth  century,  the  powers 
of  the  States- General  had  almost  dwindled  into  formalities. 
Their  momentary  re-appearance  under  Henry  III.  and  Louis 
XIII.  served  only  to  illustrate  their  insignificance.  Their  total 
disuse  speedily  succeeded. 

"  The  intrusion  of  any  popular  voice  was  not  likely  to  be 
tolerated  in  the  reign  of  Louis  XIV.  —  a  reign  which  has  been 
so  often  celebrated  as  the  zenith  of  warlike  and  literary  splen- 
dour, but  which  has  always  appeared  to  me  to  be  the  consum- 
mation of  whatever  is  afflicting  and  degrading  in  the  history 
of  the  human  race.  Talent  seemed,  in  that  reign,  robbed  of 
the  conscious  elevation,  of  the  erect  and  manly  port,  which  is 
its  noblest  associate,  and  its  surest  indication.  The  mild  purity 
of  Fe'ne'lon,  the  lofty  spirit  of  Bossuet,  the  masculine  mind  of 
Boileau,  the  sublime  fervour  of  Corneille,  were  confounded  by 
a  contagion  of  ignominious  and  indiscriminate  servility.  It 
seemed  as  if  the  'representative  majesty'  of  the  genius  and 
intellect  of  man  were  prostrated  before  the  shrine  of  a  san- 
guinary and  dissolute  tyrant,  who  practised  the  corruption  of 
courts  without  their  mildness,  and  incurred  the  guilt  of  wars 
without  their  glory.  His  highest  praise  is  to  have  supported 
the  stage-trick  of  royalty  with  effect ;  and  it  is  surely  difficult 
to  conceive  any  character  more  odious  and  despicable  than 
that  of  a  puny  libertine,  who,  under  the  frown  of  a  strumpet, 
or  a  monk,  issues  the  mandate,  that  is  to  murder  virtuous  citi- 
zens, to  desolate  happy  and  peaceful  hamlets,  to  wring  agonis- 
ing tears  from  widows  and  orphans.  Heroism  has  a  splendour 
that  almost  atones  for  its  excesses ;  but  what  shall  we  think  of 
him,  who,  from  the  luxurious  and  dastardly  security  in  which  he 
wallows  at  Versailles,  issues,  with  calm  and  cruel  apathy,  his 
order  to  butcher  the  Protestants  of  Languedoc,  or  to  lay  in 
ashes  the  village  of  the  Palatinate  ?  On  the  recollection  of 
such  scenes,  as  a  scholar,  I  blush  for  the  prostitution  of  letters ; 
as  a  man,  I  blush  for  the  patience  of  humanity. 

"  But  the  despotism  of  this  reign  was  pregnant  with  the 


1791.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  65 

great  events,  which  have  signalised  our  age.  It  fostered  that 
literature  which  was  one  day  destined  to  destroy  it.  Its  pro- 
fligate conquests  have  eventually  proved  the  acquisitions  of 
humanity;  and  the  usurpations  of  Louis  XIV.  have  served 
only  to  add  a  larger  portion  to  the  great  body  of  freemen. 
The  spirit  of  its  policy  was  inherited  by  the  succeeding  reign. 
The  rage  of  conquest,  repressed  for  a  while  by  the  torpid  des- 
potism of  Fleury,  burst  forth  with  renovated  violence  in  the 
latter  part  of  the  reign  of  Louis  XV.  France,  exhausted  alike 
by  the  misfortunes  of  one  war,  and  the  victories  of  another, 
groaned  under  a  weight  of  impost  and  debt,  which  it  was 
equally  difficult  to  remedy  or  to  endure.  The  profligate  expe- 
dients were  exhausted,  by  which  successive  ministers  had 
attempted  to  avert  the  great  crisis,  in  which  the  credit  and 
power  of  the  government  must  perish. 

"  The  wise  and  benevolent  administration  of  M.  Turgot, 
though  long  enough  for  his  glory,  was  too  short,  and,  perhaps, 
too  early,  for  those  salutary  and  grand  reforms,  which  his 
genius  had  conceived,  and  his  virtue  would  have  effected. 
The  aspect  of  purity  and  talent  spread  a  natural  alarm  among 
the  minions  of  a  court,  and  they  easily  succeeded  in  the  expul- 
sion of  such  rare  and  obnoxious  intruders. 

"  The  magnificent  ambition  of  M.  de  Vergennes ;  the  bril- 
liant, profuse,  and  rapacious  career  of  M.  de  Calonne ;  the 
feeble  and  irresolute  violence  of  M.  Brienne ;  all  contributed 
their  share  to  swell  this  financial  embarrassment.  The  deficit, 
or  the  inferiority  of  the  revenue  to  the  expenditure,  at  length 
rose  to  the  enormous  sum  of  115  millions  of  livres,  or  about 
£4,750,000  annually.  This  was  a  disproportion  between  in- 
come and  expense  with  which  no  government,  and  no  indivi- 
dual, could  long  continue  to  exist. 

"  In  this  exigency,  there  was  no  expedient  left,  but  to 
guarantee  the  ruined  credit  of  bankrupt  despotism,  by  the 
sanction  of  the  national  voice.  The  States- General  were  a 
dangerous  mode  of  collecting  it ;  recourse  was  therefore  had 
to  the  assembly  of  the  Notables — a  mode  well  known  in  the 
history  of  France,  in  which  the  King  summoned  a  number  of 
individuals  selected,  at  his  discretion,  from  the  mass,  to  advise 
him  in  great  emergencies.  They  were  little  better  than  a 

6* 


66  LIFE   OF   THE  [1791. 

popular  Privy- Council ;  they  were  neither  recognised  nor  pro- 
tected by  law ;  their  precarious  and  subordinate  existence 
hung  on  the  nod  of  despotism. 

"  They  were  called  together  by  M.  Calonne*,  who  has  now 
the  inconsistent  arrogance  to  boast  of  the  schemes  which  he 
laid  before  them,  as  the  model  of  the  assembly  whom  he  tra- 
duces. He  proposed,  it  is  true,  the  equalisation  of  impost,  and 
the  abolition  of  the  pecuniary  exemptions  of  the  nobility  and 
clergy ;  and  the  difference  between  his  system  and  that  of  the 
assembly,  is  only  in  what  makes  the  sole  distinction  in  human 
actions  —  its  end.  He  would  have  destroyed  the  privileged 
orders,  as  obstacles  to  despotism  ;  they  have  destroyed  them, 
as  derogations  from  freedom.  The  object  of  his  pleasure  was 
to  facilitate  fiscal  oppression ;  the  motive  of  theirs  is  to  fortify 
general  liberty.  They  have  levelled  all  Frenchmen  as  men ; 
he  would  have  levelled  them  all  as  slaves." 

It  will  be  allowed  that  there  is  something  eminently 
happy  in  the  following  reflection  on  the  self-destroying 
effect  of  the  system  of  large  standing  armies: — 

"  It  was  the  apprehension  of  Montesquieu,  that  the  spirit  of 
increasing  armies  would  terminate  in  converting  Europe  into 
an  immense  camp,  in  changing  our  artisans  and  cultivators 
into  military  savages,  and  reviving  the  age  of  Attila  and 
Genghis.  Events  are  our  preceptors,  and  France  has  taught 
us  that  this  evil  contains  in  itself  its  own  remedy  and  limit. 
A  domestic  army  cannot  be  increased  without  increasing  the 
number  of  its  ties  with  the  people,  and  of  the  channels  by 
which  popular  sentiment  may  enter.  Every  man,  who  is 
added  to  the  army,  is  a  new  link  that  unites  it  to  the  nation. 
If  all  citizens  were  compelled  to  become  soldiers,  all  soldiers 
must  of  necessity  adopt  the  feelings  of  citizens ;  and  the 
despots  cannot  increase  their  army  without  admitting  into  it 
a  greater  number  of  men  interested  to  destroy  them.  A 
small  army  may  have  sentiments  different  from  the  great  body 

*  The  Vindiciae  Gallicae  was  partly  directed  against  the  pamphlet  of 
this  minister,  which  had  lately  appeared. 


1791.]  BIGHT   HON.    SIR    JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  67 

of  the  people,  and  no  interest  in  common  with  them ;  but  a 
numerous  soldiery  cannot.  This  is  the  barrier  which  nature 
has  opposed  to  the  increase  of  armies  ;  they  cannot  be  nume- 
rous enough  to  enslave  the  people,  without  becoming  the 
people  itself.  The  effects  of  this  truth  have  been  hitherto 
conspicuous  only  in  the  military  defection  of  France,  because 
the  enlightened  sense  of  general  interest  has  been  so  much 
more  diffused  in  that  nation  than  in  any  other  despotic  mo- 
narchy of  Europe ;  but  they  must  be  felt  by  all.  An  elabo- 
rate discipline  may,  for  a  while  in  Germany,  debase  and 
brutalise  soldiers  too  much  to  receive  any  impressions  from 
their  fellow-men ;  artificial  and  local  institutions  are,  however, 
too  feeble  to  resist  the  energy  of  natural  causes.  The  consti- 
tution of  man  survives  the  transient  fashions  of  despotism ; 
and  the  history  of  the  next  century  will  probably  evince  on 
how  frail  and  tottering  a  basis  the  military  tyrannies  of 
Europe  stand." 

A  similar  limit  is  prospectively,  in  imagination,  pre- 
scribed to  another  form  of  authority  more  unsubstantial, 
indeed,  but  not  less  formidable,  in  a  prediction  which 
the  present  course  of  events,  particularly  in  our  own 
country,  would  seem  about  to  realise.  "  Church  power 
(unless  some  revolution,  auspicious  to  priestcraft,  should 
replunge  Europe  in  ignorance)  will  certainly  not  survive 
the  nineteenth  century.'*  The  whole  subject  of  Church 
property,  which  the  resumption  of  the  revenues  of  the 
French  clergy  suggested,  is  abstractedly  considered.* 
The  argument  here  is  conveyed  in  a  more  nervous  and 
pointed  style,  abounding  in  familiar  illustration,  than 
was  generally  observable  in  the  author's  writings,  and, 
but  for  its  length,  it  would  be  well  worth  insertion,  as  a 
further  and  favourable  specimen  of  them.  As  it  is,  we 

*  "  Sir  James  Mackintosh,  in  his  Vindiciae  Gallicse,  has  shown,  by 
arguments  not  easily  controverted,  that  Church  property  is  public  pro- 
perty."— Professor  Cooper's  (South  Carolina  College)  Political  Eco- 
nomy, p.  358. 


68  LIFE    OF   THE  [1791. 

must  content  ourselves  with  the  following  summary 
glance  over  the  whole  subject,  and  the  different  aspects 
in  which  it  was  and  will  be  viewed  :  — 

"  Thus  various  are  the  aspects,  which  the  French  Revolution, 
not  only  in  its  influence  on  literature,  but  in  its  general  tenor 
and  spirit,  presents  to  minds  occupied  by  various  opinions. 
To  the  eye  of  Mr.  Burke  it  exhibits  nothing  but  a  scene  of 
horror.  In  his  mind  it  inspires  no  emotion  but  abhorrence  of 
its  leaders,  commiseration  of  their  victims,  and  alarms  at  the 
influence  of  an  event,  which  menaces  the  subversion  of  the 
policy,  the  arts,  and  the  manners  of  the  civilised  world.  Minds, 
who  view  it  through  another  medium,  are  filled  by  it  with 
every  sentiment  of  admiration  and  triumph  ;  —  of  admiration 
due  to  splendid  exertions  of  virtue,  and  of  triumph  inspired  by 
widening  prospects  of  happiness. 

"  Nor  ought  it  to  be  denied  by  the  candour  of  philosophy,  that 
events  so  great  are  never  so  unmixed,  as  not  to  present  a  double 
aspect  to  the  acuteness  and  exaggerations  of  contending  parties. 
The  same  ardour  of  passion  which  produces  patriotic  and  legis- 
lative heroism,  becomes  the  source  of  ferocious  retaliation,  of 
visionary  novelties,  and  precipitate  change.  The  attempt  were 
hopeless  to  increase  the  fertility,  without  favouring  the  rank 
luxuriance  of  the  soil.  He  that,  on  such  occasions,  expects  un- 
mixed good,  ought  to  recollect  that  the  economy  of  nature  has 
invariably  determined  the  equal  influence  of  high  passions  in 
giving  birth  to  virtues  and  to  crimes.  The  soil  of  Attica  was 
remarked  by  antiquity  as  producing  at  once  the  most  delicious 
fruits,  and  the  most  virulent  poisons.  It  is  thus  with  the  human 
mind  ;  and  to  the  frequency  of  convulsions  in  the  ancient  com- 
monwealths, they  owe  those  simple  examples  of  sanguinary 
tumult  and  virtuous  heroism,  which  distinguish  their  history 
from  the  monotonous  tranquillity  of  modern  states.  The  pas- 
sions of  a  nation  cannot  be  kindled  to  the  degree,  which  ren- 
ders it  capable  of  great  achievements,  without  endangering  the 
commission  of  violences  and  crimes.  The  reforming  ardour  of 
a  senate  cannot  be  inflamed  sufficiently  to  combat  and  over- 
come abuses,  without  hazarding  the  evils,  which  arise  from 
legislative  temerity.  Such  are  the  immutable  laws,  which  are 


1791.]  EIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  69 

more  properly  to  be  regarded  as  libels  on  our  nature,  than  as 
charges  against  the  French  Revolution.  The  impartial  voice 
of  history  ought,  doubtless,  to  record  the  blemishes  as  well  as 
the  glories  of  that  great  event ;  and  to  contrast  the  delineation 
of  it  which  might  have  been  given  by  the  specious  and  tem- 
perate Toryism  of  Mr.  Hume,  with  that  which  we  have  re- 
ceived from  the  repulsive  and  fanatical  invectives  of  Mr.  Burke, 
might  still  be  amusing  and  instructive.  Both  these  great  men 
would  be  adverse  to  the  Revolution  ;  but  it  would  not  be  diffi- 
cult to  distinguish  between  the  undisguised  fury  of  an  eloquent 
advocate,  and  the  well-dissembled  partiality  of  a  philosophical 
judge.  Such  would,  probably,  be  the  difference  between  Mr. 
Hume  and  Mr.  Burke,  were  they  to  treat  on  the  French  Revo- 
lution. The  passions  of  the  latter  would  only  feel  the  excesses 
which  had  dishonoured  it ;  but  the  philosophy  of  the  former 
would  instruct  him  that  the  human  feelings,  raised  by  such 
events  above  the  level  of  ordinary  situations,  become  the 
source  of  a  guilt  and  a  heroism  unknown  to  the  ordinary 
affairs  of  nations ;  that  such  periods  are  only  fertile  in  those 
sublime  virtues  and  splendid  crimes,  which  so  powerfully 
agitate  and  interest  the  heart  of  man." 

This  parallel  suggests  the  insertion,  in  this  place,  of 
an  extract  from  an  unpublished  sketch  of  the  character 
of  Mr.  Burke's  political  principles,  drawn  up  many  years 
subsequently,  when  all  the  disturbing  forces  of  party 
conflict  had  lost  their  influence  ;  but  only  following  out 
in  greater  detail  the  lineaments  of  the  structure  of 
that  great  mind,  which  are  here  more  faintly  traced.  It 
extends  to  a  length  which  can  be  justified  only  by  the 
fact  of  its  seeing  the  light  for  the  first  time. 

"  One  of  the  least  imperfect  divisions  of  intellectual  eminence 
seems  to  be  that  of  Lord  Bacon,  into  the  discriminative  and 
the  discursive  understanding  —  that  which  distinguishes  be- 
tween what  is  apparently  like,  and  that  which  discovers  the 
real  likeness  of  what  seems  to  be  most  unlike ;  at  least,  the 
highest  degrees  of  both  these  degrees  are  seldom  united.  The 
position  in  which  an  extensive  view  is  taken,  prevents  the  dis- 


70  LIFE   OF   THE  [1791. 

cernment  of  minute  shades  of  difference.  The  acute  under- 
standing is  the  talent  of  the  logician,  and  its  province  is  the 
detection  of  fallacy.  The  comprehensive  understanding  dis- 
covers the  identity  of  facts  which  seem  dissimilar,  and  binds 
together  into  a  system  the  most  apparently  unconnected  and 
unlike  results  of  experience.  To  generalise  is  to  philosophise ; 
and  comprehension  of  mind,  joined  to  the  habit  of  careful  and 
patient  observation,  forms  the  true  genius  of  philosophy. 

"  Acuteness  was  by  no  means  the  characteristic  power  of 
Mr.  Burke's  mind.  He  was  not  a  nice  distinguishes  or  a  subtle 
disputant.  Specimens  of  argumentative  ingenuity,  or  dialec- 
tical dexterity,  are  indeed  scattered  over  his  writings,  but  more 
thinly  perhaps  than  those  of  any  other  talent.  His  under- 
standing was  comprehensive  ;  his  mind  had  a  range  and  com- 
pass beyond  that  of  most  men  who  have  ever  lived.  To  com- 
prehend many  objects  in  one  view ;  to  have  the  power  of 
placing  himself  on  a  commanding  eminence,  and  of  perceiving 
in  their  true  nature  and  just  proportions  the  distant,  as  well  as 
the  near,  parts  of  his  prospect,  were  faculties,  in  which  not 
many  human  beings  have  surpassed  him. 

"  So  wide  an  intellectual  horizon  could  scarcely  be  united 
to  the  microscopical  discernment  of  minute  shades  of  differ- 
ence. But  though  he  did  not  extort  assent  by  a  process  of 
argument,  he  enlightened  the  mind  by  the  fullest  enumeration 
and  the  clearest  display  of  every  quality,  and  relation,  and 
tendency,  and  effect,  which  could  contribute  towards  a  correct 
view  of  every  side  of  a  subject  of  deliberation.  He  supplied 
the  principles  and  the  materials,  which  the  ingenuity  of  the 
reasoner  were  to  mould  into  a  logical  form.  It  was  his  office 
to  teach,  rather  than  to  dispute. 

"  The  subject,  which,  with  few  exceptions,  employed  this 
mighty  understanding  was  politics.  To  speak  more  exactly, 
it  was  the  middle  region,  between  the  details  of  business,  and 
the  generalities  of  speculation.  It  was  that  part  of  knowledge 
of  which  Lord  Bacon  says,  that  '  it  is  most  immersed  in  mat- 
ter, and  hardliest  reduced  to  axiom.'  No  man,  indeed,  rose 
more  above  the  blind  adoption  of  precedent,  and  the  narrow 
discussion  of  a  particular  measure.  Perhaps  he  introduced 
too  much  of  general  principle  into  political  discussion,  for  his 
success  as  a  statesman,  or  his  effect  as  an  orator.  But  while 


1791.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR    JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  71 

he  was  always  ambitious  of  ascending  high  enough  to  gain  a 
commanding  view,  he  was  also  fearful  of  reaching  the  height 
from  which  all  is  indistinct,  or  nothing  is  to  be  seen  but  clouds. 
His  constitution,  as  well  as  his  prudence,  restrained  his  ascent; 
he  could  neither  endure  so  thin  an  air,  nor  firmly  look  down 
from  such  elevated  ground. 

"  He  never  generalised  so  far  as  to  approach  the  boundaries 
of  metaphysics.  Whether  it  arose  most  from  disability,  or  dis- 
inclination, from  the  original  structure  of  his  mind,  or  from  the 
bent  which  it  early  received  towards  civil  affairs,  certain  it  is 
that  he  abstained  from  the  more  general  speculations  in  his 
very  first  political  works,  with  an  uniformity  very  remarkable 
in  a  great  understanding,  and  in  an  age  when  the  allurements 
of  speculation  were  so  abundant,  and  its  hazards  seemed  to  be 
so  remote.  It  is  much  more  easy  to  understand  how  this  in- 
disposition was  strengthened  by  the  progress  of  experience, 
and  at  length  exasperated  by  terrible  events  into  a  dread  and 
hatred,  which  however  explicable  or  excusable  in  the  statesman, 
are  blemishes  in  writings  left  for  the  instruction  of  mankind. 
His  treatise  on  the  Sublime  and  Beautiful  is  rather  a  proof 
that  his  mind  was  not  formed  for  pure  philosophy  ;  and  if  we 
may  believe  the  lively  and  dramatic  biographer  of  Johnson, 
that  it  was  once  the  intention  of  Mr.  Burke  to  have  written 
against  Berkeley,  we  may  be  assured  that  he  would  not  have 
been  successful  in  answering  that  great  speculator ;  or,  to 
speak  more  correctly,  that  he  could  not  have  discovered  the 
true  nature  of  the  questions  in  dispute,  and  thus  have  afforded 
the  only  answer  consistent  with  the  limits  of  the  human  facul- 
ties. The  generalisations  of  the  theorist  are,  indeed,  very  un- 
like those  of  the  most  comprehensive  politician.  The  meta- 
physician, to  use  the  significant  language  of  the  ancients, 
labours  to  discover  'the  one  in  many.'  He  endeavours  to 
trace  one  quality  through  many  or  all  things ;  one  fact  through 
many  appearances ;  one  cause  of  many  effects,  or  one  effect 
of  many  causes.  His  purpose  can  be  gained  only  by  fixing 
his  exclusive  attention  on  the  quality  or  the  phenomenon 
which  he  is  to  generalise  ;  or,  in  other  words,  by  abstracting 
his  observation  from  all  other  concomitants.  He  rises  to 
principles  so  general,  that  they  never  can  be  directly  applied 
to  practice,  and  that  their  remote  connexion  with  the  minute 


72  LIFE   OF   THE  [1791. 

phenomena,  through  a  long  chain  of  intermediate  laws,  has 
hitherto  been  successfully  traced  only  in  those  sciences,  which 
as  they  are  conversant  with  a  few  elementary  notions,  are 
capable  of  a  simplicity  of  deduction,  which  preserves  the 
thread  of  so  distant  a  relation  unbroken  and  perceptible.  The 
politician  must  not  aim  so  high  ;  his  generalisations  extend 
no  farther  than  to  observe,  that  certain  collections  of  qualities, 
or  effects,  are  to  be  commonly  found  in  certain  classes  of  the 
objects  of  political  consideration.  He  is  content  with  some 
tolerably  general  results  of  experience,  of  a  very  compound 
nature.  He  does  not,  like  the  metaphysician,  guard  against 
the  admission  of  what  is  foreign,  but  rather  against  the  omis- 
sion of  what  is  material.  In  subjects  of  too  great  complexity 
for  analysis,  he  must  acquire  the  power  of  approximating  truth 
by  a  quick  and  correct  glance.  He  must  not  be  too  distant 
from  practice  to  justify  results  by  a  pretty  direct  appeal  to 
fact,  or  to  try  their  justness  by  application  to  real  affairs.  Even 
in  this  intermediate  region  are  many  subdivisions,  which  are 
in  their  present  state  distinguishable,  and  which  may  one  day 
receive  names  as  sciences  as  distinct  from  each  other  as  the 
various  branches  of  physics.  The  moral  doctrine  of  govern- 
ment, or  the  reasons  why  and  how  far  it  ought  to  be  obeyed, 
is  perfectly  distinguished  from  the  physical  theory  which  ex- 
plains how  it  is  formed  and  changed.  The  theory  of  the 
general  progress  of  society  is  different  from  that  of  the  revolu- 
tions of  states.  Neither  are  to  be  confounded  with  the  maxims 
of  prudence  applicable  to  internal  or  foreign  policy,  nor  do  any 
of  these  speculations,  or  rules,  resemble  in  their  genius  and 
character  the  almost  exact  science  of  political  economy.  Even 
if  the  scattered  elements  of  jurisprudence  were  to  arrange 
themselves  into  a  science,  around  those  central  principles 
towards  which  they  seem  of  late  to  tend,  with  an  accelerating 
force,  that  science  would  still  be  perfectly  separable  from  the 
heart  of  legislation,  which  aims  to  apply  the  results  of  such  a 
science  to  the  character  and  condition  of  communities.  Many 
other  divisions  of  this  great  department  of  human  knowledge 
may  easily  be  imagined ;  but  the  above  are  sufficient  for  exam- 
ples. Some  of  the  most  celebrated  writers  of  modern  ages  oc- 
cupy different  portions  of  it.  Machiavel,  in  his  Discourses  on 
Livy,  blends  the  philosophy  of  history  with  maxims  of  practical 


1791.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  73 

policy.  In  his  '  Prince?  which  is  neither  a  lesson,  a  pane- 
gyric, nor  a  satire,  but  a  theory  of  usurpation,  he  was  so  far 
prejudiced  by  the  flagitious  period  in  which  he  lived,  as  not  to 
perceive  that  most  of  his  arts  of  tyranny  are  unfit  for  admis- 
sion into  a  general  theory,  because  they  are  utterly  imprac- 
ticable in  any  of  the  ordinary  and  more  tolerable  conditions 
of  civilised  society.  Montesquieu  and  Hume,  the  two  greatest 
political  philosophers  of  the  eighteenth  century,  ranged  over 
the  whole  of  this  region;  Montesquieu,  in  a  work  full  of 
gleams  of  wisdom,  as  well  as  flashes  of  genius,  but  in  truth 
of  as  miscellaneous  a  nature  as  the  Essays  of  Hume,  and  of 
which  the  principal  defects  have  arisen  from  an  attempt  to 
force  it  into  an  appearance  of  system :  Hume,  in  Essays,  of 
which  a  few  may  be  considered  as  models  of  the  deep,  clear, 
full,  short,  and  agreeable  discussion  of  important  subjects. 
Some  of  the  most  beautiful  chapters  of  the  Wealth  of  Nations 
are  not  so  properly  parts  of  an  elementary  treatise  on  political 
economy,  as  they  are  contributions  towards  that  science,  which 
will  one  day  unfold  the  general  laws  of  the  progress  of  the 
human  race  from  rudeness  to  civilisation.  Of  all  these  philo- 
sophers not  one  was  a  statesman,  and  none,  except  Mr.  Hume, 
could  be  said  to  be  a  metaphysician.  He,  indeed,  though  the 
subtlest  speculator  of  his  time,  was  also  one  of  the  most  emi- 
nent historical  and  political  writers.  He  preserved  his  specula- 
tions undisturbed  by  the  grossness  of  practice,  and  he  guarded 
his  political  prudence  from  all  taint  of  subtlety.  He  seemed, 
in  different  parts  of  his  writings,  to  have  two  minds.  But  he 
alone  appears  to  have  possessed  the  sort  of  intellectual  versa- 
tility,— this  power  of  contracting  the  mental  organs  to  the 
abstractions  of  speculative  philosophy,  or  of  dilating  them 
for  the  large  and  complicated  deliberations  of  business.  The 
philosophy  of  Mr.  Burke  differed  considerably  from  that  of 
any  of  them.  He  was  less  a  speculator  than  any  of  them. 
Their  end  was  truth :  his  was  utility.  He,  to  use  his  own 
expression,  was  *  a  philosopher  in  action,'  and  the  course  of 
his  active  life  necessarily  characterised  his  manner  of  think- 
ing. In  those  parts  of  knowledge  most  closely  connected 
with  civil  affairs,  which  make  the  nearest  approaches  to  a 
scientific  character,  he  habitually  contemplated  their  practi- 

VOL.  I.  7 


74  LIFE   OF   THE  [1791. 

cal  aspect.  In  legal  discussions,  which  peculiarly  require  a 
logical  understanding,  he  considered  the  spirit  and  tendency 
of  measures  much  more  than  their  exact  correspondence  to 
rule.  He  looked  at  them  more  as  a  politician,  than  as  a  law- 
yer. Though  he  appears  early  and  successfully  to  have  studied 
the  theory  of  wealth,  yet  he  shrunk  from  the  statement  of  its 
principles  in  that  precise  and  elementary  form  in  which  they 
are  capable  of  being  expressed.  He  saw  them  embodied  in 
circumstances,  and  he  confined  his  view  to  as  much  of  them 
as  the  statesman  could  apply  to  his  own  age  and  country. 
The  results  of  a  science  were  to  him  elements  of  the  art  of 
administration.  Most  admirable  examples  of  theory  on  every 
part  of  the  political  sciences  are  doubtless  to  be  found  in 
his  writings.  Perhaps  no  man  ever  philosophised  better  on 
national  character,  —  on  the  connection  of  political  with  pri- 
vate feelings,  —  on  the  relation  of  government  to  manners, 
and,  above  all,  on  the  principles  of  wise  and  just  alteration  in 
laws.  He  never  has  showed  a  more  truly  philosophical  spirit, 
a  more  just  conception  of  that  part  of  philosophy  which  he 
cultivated,  than  in  his  resistance  to  those  precipitate  general- 
isations which  are  as  much  the  bane  of  sound  political  theory 
as  they  are  of  safe  practice.  From  a  still  more  elevated  posi- 
tion, he  could  have  discovered  that  they  were  as  unphiloso- 
phical  as  they  were  impracticable,  and  that  the  error  consisted 
not  in  then-  being  metaphysical,  but  in  their  being  false.  His 
understanding  could  not  abstain  from  speculations  which  were 
near  and  attractive,  and  it  was  indeed  impossible  to  justify  or 
enforce  the  rules  of  policy  without  showing  their  foundations 
in  some  reasonable  theory.  But  all  his  theory  (if  the  expres- 
sion be  allowed)  lay  in  the  immediate  neighbourhood  of  prac- 
tice. It  always  conducted,  by  a  short  and  direct  road,  to  some 
rule  of  conduct.  His  speculations  were  only  means.  He  was 
often  a  political  philosopher,  but  it  was  only  on  his  way  to 
practical  policy.  It  is  this  practical  character  which  distin- 
guishes him  among  those  who  have  risen  above  details.  The 
true  foundation  of  his  fame  is,  that  he  was  one  of  the  greatest 
teachers  of  civil  prudence.  This  superiority  has  been  recog- 
nised, though  its  nature  could  not  have  been  discriminated  by 
the  admiration  and  reverence  of  the  majority  of  mankind,  who 


1791.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  75 

are  content  to  follow  the  impulse  of  their  natural  feelings. 
Now  that  the  hostilities  of  politics  have  ceased,  it  can  be  dis- 
puted only  by  those  who,  in  aiming  at  distinction  above  the 
multitude,  have  lost  their  sensibility  without  having  reached 
superior  reason. 

"  They  cannot  distinguish  permanent  instruction  in  works 
which  have  a  transitory  form,  and  are  written  on  temporary 
subjects.  They  cannot  disengage  it  from  the  personalities,  the 
popular  form,  the  factious  passions,  the  exaggerations  of  elo- 
quence, which  on  such  occasions  are  its  inseparable  attendants. 
They  require  the  exterior  and  parade  of  system,  and  technical 
language.  They  recognise  wisdom  only  in  her  robes  and  her 
chair.  Their  feeble  organs  are  too  much  dazzled  by  the  glory 
of  genius  to  see  the  truth  which  it  surrounds.  Those  who  are 
subject  to  such  prejudices  may  be  assured,  that  however  well 
qualified  their  understandings  may  be  for  the  sciences  of  few 
elements,  and  of  simple  deductions,  they  are  as  incapable  of 
catching  the  true  spirit  of  political  wisdom  as  of  estimating  the 
philosophy  of  one  of  its  most  eminent  masters.  It  is,  and 
perhaps  will  remain,  too  imperfect  to  be  reduced  to  system. 
Detached  fragments  of  it  only  can  be  wrought  out  by  men 
much  experienced  in  the  subject,  under  the  pressure  of  the 
strongest  motives.  The  experience  and  the  motives  must  arise 
from  the  pursuits  and  contests  of  active  life.  It  is  to  be  found, 
not  in  treatises,  but  in  those  compositions  by  which  such  men 
labour  to  attain  their  ends,  in  letters,  in  speeches,  or  in  those 
political  tracts,  the  produce  of  modern  times,  which  are,  in 
truth,  more  deliberate  orations  addressed  to  the  whole  public. 
Such  works  must  be  actuated  by  the  passions  which  produced 
them,  and  must  be  expressed  in  the  style  which  is  adapted  to 
their  purpose.  Even  the  variations,  and  real  or  apparent  incon- 
sistencies, from  which  the  writings  of  the  actors  on  the  public 
scene  can  scarcely  altogether  be  exempt,  are  not  without  their 
effect  in  perplexing  his  judgment,  if  he  avails  himself  of  them 
as  a  fortunate  opportunity  of  seeing  the  light  which  is  thus 
successively  thrown  on  every  side  of  important  questions. 
Where  impartiality  is  unattainable,  or  would  be  too  feeble  a 
stimulant,  we  must  learn  to  balance  the  opposite  errors  of  alter- 
nate partialities  on  different  sides.  Political  truth  seems,  as  it 
were,  to  lie  too  deep  to  be  reached  by  calm  labour  and  it 


76  LIFE   OF   THE  [1791. 

appears  to  be  only  thrown  up  from  the  recesses  of  a  great 
understanding,  by  the  powerful  agency  of  those  passions  which 
the  contests  of  politics  inspire.  The  genius  of  civil  philosophy 
is  eminently  popular,  unsystematic,  delighting  in  example  and 
illustrations,  prone  to  embody  its  counsels  in  the  most  striking 
figures  of  speech,  and  conveying  instruction  to  posterity  only 
in  the  same  eloquence  by  which  the  present  age  has  been  per- 
suaded." 

To  return  :  the  author's  own  opinion,  upon  reflection, 
was,  nevertheless,  that  the  bustle  and  political  excitement 
of  the  moment,  and  perhaps  the  heat  of  literary  composi- 
tion, had  led  him,  in  some  particulars,  to  carry  this 
*  Defence "  farther  than  the  principles  of  a  sound  and 
temperate  policy  could  justify.  The  hurry  with  which 
the  work  was  composed,  left  him  little  leisure  to  review 
particular  passages ;  and  one  or  two  expressions  escaped 
him  at  variance  with  his  habitual  temperance  of  thought, 
and  which  certainly  would  still  less  have  fallen  from  his 
pen,  if  he  could  then  have  observed  the  redeeming  qua- 
lities which  were  to  be  revealed  from  beneath  the  tinsel 
of  folly  that  had  too  long  concealed  them,  in  passing 
through  the  fiery  ordeal  that  awaited  the  unfortunate 
Marie  Antoinette. 

His  friend  Mr.  Wilde,  in  a  letter  written  at  this  time 
[28th  June,  1791,]  objects  with  great  warmth,  and  with 
his  habitual  liveliness  of  fancy,  to  some  of  these. 

"  With  regard  to  your  book*,  my  dearest  James,  I  had 
the  first  or  second  copy  that  was  in  Edinburgh.  My 
opinion  of  it  I  need  not  tell  you ;  as  I  prophesied,  it  has 
happened.  You  are  ( inter  ignes  luna  minores ; '  but  I 
prefer  sunshine,  even  to  the  moon  playing  in  autumnal 
azure  on  the  waters  of  Lochness.  *  *  *  You  know 
I  never  could  conceal  any  part  of  my  mind  from  such 
friends  as  you.  I  certainly  did  not  like  you  the  better 
for  'sottishness  and  prostitution  on  a  throne.'  Let  us 
reason  the  matter. 


1791.]  EIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  77 

"Suppose  all  the  calumnies  against  the  King  and 
Queen  of  France  to  be  true,  you  will  not  certainly  say 
that  the  slavery  of  France  was  owing  to  them.  Let  the 
private  vices  of  this  man  and  woman  be  what  they  might, 
they  had  nothing  in  them  savage  or  tj^rannical.  France 
was  enslaved  long  before,  and  by  other  hands.  You  deny 
the  benevolence  of  the  King  of  France.  Be  it  so ;  but 
you  allow  yourself,  and  who  will  not  allow,  (Paine  does 
it,)  that  concessions  to  liberty,  be  it  from  weakness,  as 
you  say,  have  marked  his  whole  reign.  Amidst  all  the 
Queen's  alleged  gallantries,  it  was  a  happy  thing  for 
France  that  there  was  no  mistress — the  curse  of  all  for- 
mer reigns.  *  *  There  were  no  public  vices  to  call 
forth  patriotic  indignation.  Why,  then,  should  the  Eng- 
lish patriot,  or  the  French  patriot,  descend  from  the 
cause  of  nations  to  private  morals  ? 

"  You  talk  of  Burke's  '  sensibility  being  scared  at  the 
homely  miseries  of  the  vulgar.'  I  think  his  whole  life 
has  shown  the  contrary.  As  to  myself,  I  have  often  felt 
myself  moved  at  the  sight  of  an  old  wife  gathering 
cinders.  Had  I,  in  the  year  of  famine,  seen  the  poor 
Highlanders  asking  bread  at  your  grandmother's  door,  I 
would,  with  you,  have  divided  with  them  my  oaten  or 
barley-cake.*  But  not  to  mention  this,  I  am  afraid  it  is 
an  intellectual  illusion,  not  an  illusion  of  the  heart,  which 
leads  to  regret  general  miseries,  which  you  do  not  witness. 
You  will  never  persuade  me  that  a  man,  who  can  callously 
contemplate  individual  suffering,  especially  in  high  rank, 
which  enhances  the  suffering  in  proportion,  can  feel  for 
any  other  distress.  If  the  sufferings  of  eminent  indi- 
viduals do  not  move  us,  we  will  never  feel  for  the  suffer- 
ings of  a  whole  people.  In  feeling  for  a  people,  we  always 
picture  out  individuals  to  our  imagination.  It  is  the 

*  Apparently  alluding  to  an  incident  in  his  early  life. 

7* 


78  LIFE   OF   THE  [1791. 

eternal  law  of  sympathy.  A  man  would  drown  himself 
in  a  hogshead  of  wine ;  his  feelings  may  be  refined  and 
elevated  by  a  bottle. 

"  Cleopatra  was  certainly  a  more  immoral  woman  than 
her  worst  enemies  dare  to  pronounce  the  Queen  of  France. 
I  never,  however,  read  the  picture  given  by  Horace,  of 
her  magnanimity,  without  feeling  my  face  flushed,  and 
my  eyes  sparkling. 

'  Ausa  etjacentem  visere  regiam, 
Vultu  sereno,  fortis  et  asperas 
Tractare  serpentes,  ut  atrum 

Corpora  combiberet  venenum, — 

Deliberata  morte  ferocior : 
Sasvis  Liburnis  scilicet  invidens, 
Privata  deduci  superbo 

Non  humilis  mulier  triumpho.' 

By  the  way,  let  it  be  remembered,  that  the  homely 
miseries  of  the  vulgar,  and  all  that  rant,  is  likewise  to 
be  found  in  Paine. 

"  You  ask  about  the  Edinburgh  literati ;  I  have  heard 
none  of  them  speak  of  it,  but  Tytler.  He  said  there 
was  a  great  deal  of  thought  in  the  book.  Laing  says 
your  book  is  the  best  he  ever  read.  Corrimonie* 
thinks  you  admirable.  Macleod  Bannatyne^  has  pur- 
chased you.  Such  is  the  state  of  matters,  so  far  as  I 
know." 

In  some  of  these  observations  of  his  unfortunate  friend, 
the  author  was  probably  the  first  to  acquiesce  ;  his  mind 
always  instinctively  shrunk  from  harsh  or  severe  judg- 
ments. The  objectionable  allusions  were  cheerfully  can- 

*  Mr.  Grant,  of  Corrimonie. 

t  The  late  Lord  Bannatyne,  the  author  of  several  papers  in  the 
Lounger  and  Mirror. 


1791.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  79 

celled  in  a  succeeding  edition ;  in  an  advertisement  pre- 
fixed to  which  he  observes  — 

"  I  have  been  accused,  by  valuable  Mends,  of  treating  with 
ungenerous  levity  the  misfortunes  of  the  royal  family  of  France. 
They  will  not,  however,  suppose  me  capable  of  deliberately 
violating  the  sacredness  of  misery  in  a  palace  or  a  cottage ; 
and  I  sincerely  lament  that  I  should  have  been  betrayed  into 
expressions  which  admitted  that  construction." 

The  success  which  attended  the  publication  of  the 
"  Vindicise  Gallicse,"  while  it  confirmed  a  strong  previous 
inclination  towards  the  field  of  political  distinction,  must 
have  exceeded  his  most  sanguine  expectations,  by  the 
high  station  which  was  at  once,  in  consequence  of  it, 
accorded  to  him  in  the  great  political  party  to  which  he 
had  attached  himself.  Although  his  talents  must  have 
been,  in  some  degree,  previously  made  known,  through 
his  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Home  Tooke,  Dr.  Parr,  and 
some  few  others ;  still  the  appearance  of  such  a  work 
partook  of  the  nature  of  a  surprise  upon  the  leaders  of  the 
party,  who,  as  is  usual,  lost  no  time  after  such  indisputa- 
ble display  of  ability,  and  so  great  a  service,  in  acknow- 
ledging the  one,  and  endeavouring  to  secure  a  continu- 
ance of  the  other.  He  became,  in  consequence,  imme- 
diately known  to  Mr.  Fox  and  Mr.  Sheridan,  and  generally 
to  the  most  eminent  Whigs  of  the  day,  partaking  of  their 
political  confidence,  as  well  as  occasionally  of  their  private 
society.  As  a  proof  of  the  consideration  in  which  he  was 
held,  upon  the  formation,  in  the  succeeding  year,  under 
the  auspices  of  those  eminent  persons,  of  the  celebrated 
Association  of  the  Friends  of  the  People,  he  was  appointed 
to  the  honorary  post  of  its  secretary,  and  was  the  author, 
either  solely,  or  in  a  very  principal  degree,  of  their  u  De- 
claration," which  exercised  so  powerful  an  influence  over 
the  public  feeling  of  the  time.  Although  this  society 


80  LIFE   OF   THE  [1791. 

contained,  as  from  its  numbers  must  have  been  expected, 
many  who  entertained  extreme  and  impracticable  opi- 
nions, its  objects  (the  chief  being  a  practical  reform  of  the 
abuses  which  had  crept  into  the  representative  system) 
were  strictly  mediatory  between  the  extremes  of  opinion, 
which  marked  that  agitated  time,  —  between  the  "  many 
honest  men,  who  were  driven  into  Toryism  by  their  fears," 
and  the  u  many  sober  men,  who  were  driven  into  Repub- 
licanism  by  their  enthusiasm ; "  —  and  little  of  any  other 
spirit  had,  in  point  of  fact,  characterised  it,  to  justify 
Mr.  Pitt's  celebrated  proclamation,  "  which,  by  directing 
a  vague  and  indiscriminate  odium  against  all  political 
change,  confounded,  in  the  same  storm  of  unpopularity, 
the  wildest  projects  of  subversion,  and  the  most  measured 
plans  of  reform."  The  sort  of  semi-official  character  of 
Mr.  Mackintosh's  situation,  imposed  upon  him  the  duty  of 
defending  the  principles  that  were  their  bond  of  union ; 
a  task  which  he  performed  in  "  A  Letter  to  the  Right 
Honourable  William  Pitt,"  (London,  1792) :  on  which 
occasion,  the  public  thanks  of  the  body  were  given  him, 
for  the  ability  and  vigour  displayed  in  its  service. 

"  A  statesman,"  he  observes,  in  his  address  to  the  minister, 
"  emboldened  by  success,  and  instructed  by  experience  in  all  the 
arts  of  popular  delusion,  easily  perceived  the  assailable  position 
of  every  mediatorial  party,  the  various  enemies  they  provoke, 
the  opposite  imputations  they  incur.  In  their  labours  to  avert 
that  fatal  collision  of  the  opposite  orders  of  society,  which  the 
diffusion  of  extreme  principles  threatened,  you  saw  that  they 
would  be  charged  by  the  corrupt  with  violence,  and  accused 
by  the  violent  of  insincerity.  It  was  easy,  you  knew,  to  paint 
moderation  as  the  virtue  of  cowards,  and  compromise  as  the 
policy  of  knaves,  to  the  stormy  and  intolerant  enthusiasm  of 
faction  ;  and  the  malignant  alarms  of  the  corrupt  world,  it  is 
obvious,  be  forward  to  brand  every  moderate  sentiment,  and 
every  mediatorial  effort,  as  symptoms  of  collusion  with  the 
violent,  and  of  treachery  to  the  cause  of  public  order.  It  scarcely 


1792.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  81 

required  the  incentive  and  the  sanction  of  a  solemn  public  mea- 
sure from  the  Government,  to  let  loose  so  many  corrupt  in- 
terests and  malignant  passions  on  the  natural  object  of  their 
enmity.  But  such  a  sanction  and  incentive  might  certainly 
add  something  to  the  activity  of  these  interests,  and  to  the 
virulence  of  these  passions  ;  such  a  sanction  and  incentive  you 
therefore  gave  in  your  Proclamation.  To  brand  mediation  as 
treachery,  and  neutrality  as  disguised  hostility ;  to  provoke  the 
violent  into  new  indiscretions,  and  to  make  those  indiscretions 
the  means  of  aggravating  the  Toryism  of  the  timid,  by  awaken- 
ing their  alarms ;  to  bury  under  one  black  and  indiscriminate 
obloquy  of  licentiousness  the  memory  of  every  principle  of  free- 
dom ;  to  rally  round  the  banners  of  religious  persecution,  and 
of  political  corruption,  every  man  in  the  kingdom  who  dreads 
anarchy,  and  who  deprecates  confusion ;  to  establish  on  the 
broadest  foundation  oppression  and  servility  for  the  present ; 
and  to  heap  up  in  store  all  the  causes  of  anarchy  and  civil 
commotion  for  future  times  ;  such  is  the  malignant  policy  — 
such  are  the  mischievous  tendencies  —  such  are  the  experienced 
effects  of  that  Proclamation.  It  is  sufficient  that,  for  the  present, 
it  converts  the  kingdom  into  a  camp  of  Janissaries,  enlisted  by 
their  alarms  to  defend  your  power.  It  is,  indeed,  well  adapted 
to  produce  other  remoter  and  collateral  effects,  which  the  far- 
sighted  politics  of  the  addressers  have  not  discerned.  It  is 
certainly  well  calculated  to  blow  into  a  flame  that  spark  of 
Republicanism  which  moderation  must  have  extinguished,  but 
which  may,  in  future  conceivable  circumstances,  produce  effects, 
at  the  suggestion  of  which  good  men  will  shudder,  and  on 
which  wise  men  will  rather  meditate  than  descant.  It  is  cer- 
tain that,  in  this  view,  your  Proclamation  is  as  effectual  in 
irritating  some  men  into  Republicanism,  as  Mr.  Paine's  pam- 
phlets have  been  in  frightening  others  into  Toryism." 

Nor  was  this  production  altogether  defensive  ;  the  war 
was  now  and  then  carried  into  the  enemy's  quarters. 
The  following  portrait  must  have  been  joyfully  recog- 
nised by  all  who  suffered  under  the  iron  rule  of  those 
days  ;  —  its  rough  and  dark  strokes  of  colouring  of  course 
must  not  be  viewed  apart  from  a  consideration  of  the 


82  LIFE   OF   THE  [1792. 

time  and  place  when  it  was  first  meant  to  be  exhibited. 
As  a  literary  sketch,  lapse  of  time  has  made  it  now  only 
curious. 

"  The  success  of  such  a  policy  would  certainly  demand,  in 
the  statesman  who  adopted  it,  an  union  of  talents  and  dispo- 
sitions, which  are  not  often  combined.  Cold,  stern,  crafty, 
and  ambiguous,  he  must  be  without  those  entanglements  of 
friendship,  and  those  restraints  of  feeling,  by  which  tender 
natures  are  held  back  from  desperate  enterprises.  No  ingenu- 
ousness must  betray  a  glimpse  of  his  designs ;  no  compunc- 
tion must  suspend  the  stroke  of  his  ambition.  He  must  never 
be  seduced  into  any  honest  profession  of  precise  public  princi- 
ple, which  might  afterwards  arise  against  him  as  the  record  of 
his  apostasy ;  he  must  be  prepared  for  acting  every  inconsis- 
tency, by  perpetually  veiling  his  political  professions  in  the 
no-meaning1  of  lofty  generalities.  The  absence  of  gracious 
and  popular  manners,  which  can  find  no  place  in  such  a  char- 
acter, will  be  well  compensated  by  the  austere  and  ostentatious 
virtues  of  insensibility.  He  must  possess  the  parade  without 
the  restraints  of  morals ;  he  must  unite  the  most  profound  dis- 
simulation with  all  the  ardour  of  enterprise  ;  he  must  be  pre- 
pared, by  one  part  of  his  character,  for  the  violence  of  a  multi- 
tude, and  by  another,  for  the  duplicity  of  a  court.  If  such  a 
man  arose  at  any  critical  moment  in  the  fortune  of  a  state  ;  if 
he  were  unfettered  by  any  great  political  connexion  ;  if  his  in- 
terest were  not  linked  to  the  stability  of  public  order  by  any 
ample  property  ;  if  he  could  carry  with  him  to  any  enterprise 
no  little  authority  and  splendour  of  character ;  he,  indeed, 
would  be  an  object  of  more  rational  dread  than  a  thousand 
republican  pamphleteers." 

The  execution  of  this  work  answered  every  expec- 
tation which  was  formed  by  one  of  the  most  eminent 
amongst  those  whose  names  were  enrolled  amongst  the 
"  Friends  of  the  People."  "  I  do  not  mean/'  says  the 
individual  alluded  to,  when  acknowledging  the  receipt  of 
the  pamphlet, "  to  select  one  part,  as  better  than  another ; 
but  the  reasoning  on  the  probable  consequences,  either 
of  the  failure  or  success  of  the  French  revolution,  struck 


1792.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  83 

me  particularly.  I  think  it  admirably  made  out ;  and  it 
had  not,  at  least  as  far  as  I  can  recollect,  been  urged  in 
any  of  the  discussions  that  have  taken  place  on  this 
subject  before.  But  the  whole  is  powerful  and  con- 
vincing ;  and  I  am  very  sanguine  as  to  the  effect  it  will 
produce." 

An  equally  favourable  opinion  was  pronounced  by 
another  competent  judge,  a  fellow-labourer  in  the  same 
cause. 

"  DEAR  SIR,  —  On  Saturday  I  received  a  parcel,  includ- 
ing the  retort  courteous,  and  your  own  excellent  pam- 
phlet. I  have  read  it  twice  with  rapture  and  admiration, 
and  I  certainly  shall  not  fail  to  recommend  it  earnestly. 
There  is  some  little  additional  matter  in  my  Appendix 
to  the  second  edition  of  the  Sequel ;  and  one  would 
suppose  that  you  and  I  had  been  comparing  notes,  from 
the  marked  coincidence  of  our  opinions.  But  as  a 
moderate  man,  and  as  a  clerical  man,  I  have  not  assumed 
that  tone  of  ardent  indignation,  that  brilliancy  of  imagery, 
and  that  dreadful  severity  of  expostulation,  which  charm 
me  in  every  page  and  every  sentence  of  your  book. 
There  is  not  one  single  thought  to  which  I  object ; 
though  I  confess  to  you,  that  in  four  or  five  passages  I 
should  have  taken  the  liberty  of  suggesting  a  slight,  and 
only  a  slight,  alteration  of  the  words.  But  there  is  a 
grandeur,  a  masculine  nervousness  in  the  whole,  which  I 
believe  will  not  permit  the  greater  part  of  your  readers 
to  see  the  little  inaccuracies  which  I  discerned.  *  *  * 

"  I  entreat  you,  my  dear  friend,  to  get  into  no  scrapes 
abroad. 

"  Give  my  best  compliments  to  your  lady. 

"  Believe  me,  with  unfeigned  respect,  and  unalterable 
regard, 

"  Your  obedient,  faithful  servant  and  friend, 

"July  8th,  1792.  S.  PARR." 


84  LIFE   OF   THE  [1792. 

The  caution  which  concludes  this  extract,  is  in  allu- 
sion to  a  journey  into  France,  which  Mr.  Mackintosh 
shortly  after  undertook.  Coming  from  one  who  knew 
him  well,  it  testifies  strongly  to  that  frank  thoughtless- 
ness which  formed  a  feature  of  his  character. 

About  this  time  affairs  in  that  country  had  reached 
the  point,  at  which  all,  even  the  most  sanguine,  must 
have  given  up  at  least  any  immediate  expectation  of 
its  political  regeneration,  as  well  as  sympathy  with  the 
actors  on  the  stage  ;  at  all  events,  if  any  traces  of  either 
remained,  the  massacres  of  September  were  at  hand  to 
dispel  them,  —  to  merge  all  other  feelings  into  one  of 
poignant  regret,  that  so  bright  a  day-dream  of  liberty 
had  been  so  darkly  overcast.  The  state  of  his  own 
country,  indeed,  during  the  few  years  which  immediately 
followed,  was  not  one  of  such  tranquillity,  but  that  a 
person  of  so  excitable  temperament  as  Mr.  Mackintosh, 
and  one  who,  like  him,  was  regarded  as  one  of  the 
avowed  representatives  of  a  large  mass  of  opinion,  must 
have  found  sufficient  food  for  anxiety  in  its  situation  and 
prospects.  Happily  for  himself,  however,  though  he 
never  flinched  from  any  consequences  of  the  early  ex- 
pression of  his  unqualified  political  sentiments,  the  course 
of  circumstances  tended  now  to  withdraw  him  from  such 
considerations  to  the  humbler  contemplation  of  his  own 
prospects  in  life.  He  had,  ere  this,  applied  himself,  in 
good  earnest,  to  those  preliminary  studies,  which  an 
engagement  in  the  profession  of  the  law  pre-supposes, 
and  had  observed  the  usual  routine  of  legal  instruction. 
Dry  and  irksome  as  must  have  been,  in  a  more  than 
common  degree,  the  minute  and  technical  details  of 
practice  and  pleading,  to  one  who  had  already  indulged 
in  a  somewhat  extensive  field  of  reasoning,  his  good  sense 
led  him  to  appreciate  the  necessity  and  advantage  of 
laying  a  broad  and  sure  foundation  for  future  eminence 


1794.]  EIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  85 

in  a  familiarity  with  such  knowledge.  If  many  have 
carried  away  from  their  instructor's  chambers  a  more 
familiar  insight  into  the  nicer  subtleties  of  the  science  of 
special  pleading  —  a  science,  the  beauty  of  which  he  was 
always  prepared  to  admit  —  he  never  undervalued  their 
success.  That  firm  resolution  —  the  master-key  to  what- 
ever entrance  into  the  Temple  of  Fame  —  was  not  in  him 
at  any  time  sufficiently  strong  to  counterbalance  the 
effects  of  a  taste  so  decided  for  literature  and  society, 
which,  with  all  the  pleasures  and  advantages  which  are 
in  its  train,  could  not  but  have  at  times  allured  him 
from  the  difficult  upward  path  of  his  arduous  profession. 
Lord  Coke  must  still  have  been  contented  with  a  divided 
empire  over  his  thoughts.  One  department,  however,  of 
the  usual  training  of  a  lawyer  fell  in  altogether  with  his 
tastes  and  habits ;  this  was,  the  attendance  at  one  or  other 
of  those  Debating  Societies,  which  are  considered  as  al- 
most necessary  schools  for  the  more  mechanical  parts  of 
the  art  of  public  speaking.  In  one  of  these,  then  of 
great  repute,  and  confined  to  barristers  and  members  of 
parliament,  into  which  he  was,  as  soon  as  he  was  qualified, 
introduced,  he  first  made  the  acquaintance  of  Mr.  Scarlett 
(now  Lord  Abinger),  and  some  others,  equally  distin- 
guished in  after  life  ;  amongst  whom  were  the  late  Mr. 
Perceval  and  the  late  Lord  Tenterden.  On  the  whole, 
the  three  years  which  intervened  before  he  was  called 
to  the  bar,  were  marked,  not  only  by  an  increasing 
gravity  and  dignity  of  general  character,  but  also  by  a 
consistent  devotedness  to  his  professional  claims,  and  by 
a  very  respectable  degree  of  industry.  In  the  summer 
of  1795,  one  of  his  friends,  writing  to  another,  mentions 
that  "  Mackintosh  is  gone  to  Ramsgate,  to  pursue,  in 
retirement,  his  legal  studies.  He  is  to  be  called  to  the 
bar  in  November.  I  hope  you  equal  him  in  his  ardour 
for  professional  distinction." 
VOL.  i.  8 


86  LIFE    OF   THE  [1795. 

In  Michaelmas  Term,  1795,  accordingly,  he  was  called 
to  the  Bar  by  the  Society  of  Lincoln's  Inn,  and  attached 
himself  to  the  home  circuit.  He  at  the  same  time  re- 
moved from  a  house  in  Charlotte  Street,  Portland  Place, 
which  had  been  his  residence  for  some  time,  to  what  he 
calls,  in  a  note  of  invitation  to  the  late  Mr.  Canning, 
"  his  black-letter  neighbourhood,"  and  took  a  house  in 
Serle  Street,  Lincoln's  Inn.  He  had  now  fairly  entered 
upon  that  path  which,  when  traced  by  the  patient  steps 
of  genius  and  industry,  so  often  leads  to  wealth  and  dis- 
tinction, and  evidently  enjoyed  the  satisfaction,  which 
accrues  from  having  constantly  in  view  a  honourable  and 
valuable  object  of  occupation  and  pursuit. 

Under  the  somewhat  troubled  stream,  on  which  his 
bark  had  hitherto  floated,  there  had  always  been  an 
under  current  of  clear,  tranquil  enjoyment,  which  he 
derived,  as  under  all  the  circumstances  of  life  he  con- 
tinued to  do,  from  study  and  literature.  The  subjects, 
on  which  we  find  his  thoughts  and  his  pen  employed, 
were  sufficiently  various.  About  this  time  we  find  in 
"  the  Monthly  Review,"  then  the  principal  repository  of 
the  periodical  essays  of  the  day,  articles  from  his  pen, 
among  others,  on  "  Gibbon's  Miscellaneous  Works,"  the 
late  Mr.  Roscoe's  "  Life  of  Lorenzo  de  Medicis,"  and  Mr. 
Burke's  "  Letter  to  the  Duke  of  Bedford,"  and  also  on 
his  "  Thoughts  on  a  Regicide  Peace."  *  This  last,f 
which  appeared  in  the  numbers  for  November  and  De- 
cember, 1796,  excited  much  attention ;  and  Mr.  Burke 
soon  suspected,  and  with  reason,  that  the  author  was  no 

*  Monthly  Review,  Vols.  xix.  xx.  xxi. 

t  "  This  publication  is  the  best  exposition  and  defence  of  Mr.  Burke's 
system  on  the  war  with  France.  The  critique  on  them  in  the  Monthly 
Review  for  November  and  December,  1796,  attributed  to  Sir  James 
Mackintosh  (aut  Erasmi  aut  Diaboli),  is  the  ablest  exposition  of  the 
opposite  system  of  Mr.  Fox." — Reminiscences  of  Charles  Butler,  i.  172. 


1796.]  EIGHT   HON.    SIR    JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  87 

other  than  his  old  opponent,  upon  the  former  fervour  of 
whose  opinions  the  succession  of  terrible  events  in  France, 
which  had  intervened  since  their  last  literary  encounter, 
had  not  been  lost ;  although  he  still  found  his  favourite 
doctrine,  "  that  there  was  something  in  the  character  of 
the  French  government  inherently  dangerous  to  the 
peace  of  all  other  nations,"  powerfully  impugned,  but 
with  the  same  polite  air  of  personal  courtesy  and  respect. 
Mr.  Burke's  very  flattering  expressions,  in  which  he  did 
justice  to  the  honest  candour,  as  well  as  the  acknow- 
ledged powers  of  mind  of  his  reviewer,  were  not  con- 
cealed from  the  object  of  them  ;  and  the  communication 
led  to  a  correspondence,  and  what  the  short  remaining 
period  of  that  great  man's  life  only  allows,  unfortunately, 
to  be  called  an  acquaintance. 

In  one  of  these  letters  Mr.  Mackintosh,  addressing 
him,  observes,  — "  From  the  earliest  moment  of  reflection 
your  writings  were  my  chief  study  and  delight.  The 
instruction  which  they  contained  is  endeared  to  me  by 
being  entwined  and  interwoven  with  the  freshest  and 
liveliest  feelings  of  youth.  The  enthusiasm  with  which 
I  once  embraced  it  is  now  ripened  into  solid  conviction 
by  the  experience  and  meditation  of  more  mature  age. 
For  a  tune,  indeed,  seduced  by  the  love  of  what  I  thought 
liberty,  I  ventured  to  oppose,  without  ever  ceasing  to 
venerate,  that  writer  who  had  nourished  my  understand- 
ing with  the  most  wholesome  principles  of  political  wis- 
dom. I  speak  to  state  facts,  not  to  flatter:  you  are 
above  flattery ;  and,  permit  me  to  say,  I  am  too  proud 
to  flatter  even  you. 

"  Since  that  time  a  melancholy  experience  has  unde- 
ceived me  on  many  subjects  in  which  I  was  then  the 
dupe  of  my  own  enthusiasm.  I  cannot  say  (and  you 
would  despise  me  if  I  dissembled)  that  I  can  even  now 


88  LIFE   OF   THE  [1796. 

assent  to  all  your  opinions  on  the  present  politics  of  Eu- 
rope. But  I  can  with  truth  affirm  that  I  subscribe  to 
your  general  principles,  and  am  prepared  to  shed  my 
blood  in  defence  of  the  laws  and  constitution  of  my 
country.  Even  this  much,  Sir,  I  should  not  have  said  to 
you,  if  you  had  been  possessed  of  power." 

To  which  the  following  reply  was  made  by  the  hand  of 
another,  the  disease,  under  which  Mr.  Burke  was  so  soon 
to  sink,  already  incapacitating  him  for  all  such  exertion. 

Beaconsfield,  Dec.  23,  1796. 

SIR,  —  The  very  obliging  letter  with  which  you  have 
honoured  me,  is  well  calculated  to  stir  up  those  remains 
of  vanity  that  I  had  hoped  had  been  nearly  extinguished 
in  a  frame  approaching  to  the  dissolution  of  every  thing 
that  can  feed  that  passion.  But,  in  truth,  it  afforded  me 
a  more  solid  and  a  more  sensible  consolation.  The  view 
of  a  vigorous  mind  subduing  by  its  own  constitutional 
force  the  maladies,  which  that  very  force  of  constitution 
had  produced,  is  in  itself  a  spectacle  very  pleasing  and 
very  instructive.  It  is  not  proper  to  say  anything  more 
about  myself,  who  have  been,  but  rather  to  turn  to  you 
who  are,  and  who  probably  will  be,  and  from  whom  the 
world  is  yet  to  expect  a  great  deal  of  instruction  and  a 
great  deal  of  service.  You  have  begun  your  opposition 
by  obtaining  a  great  victory  over  yourself;  and  it  shows 
how  much  your  own  sagacity,  operating  on  your  own 
experience,  is  capable  of  adding  to  your  own  extraordi- 
nary natural  talents,  and  to  your  early  erudition.  It  was 
the  show  of  virtue,  and  the  semblance  of  public  happiness, 
that  could  alone  mislead  a  mind  like  yours ;  and  it  is  a 
better  knowledge  of  their  substance,  which  alone  has  put 
you  again  in  the  way  that  leads  the  most  securely  and 
most  certainly  to  your  end.  As  it  is  on  all  hands  al- 


1796.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  89 

lowed  that  you  were  the  most  able  advocate  of  the  cause 
which  you  supported,  your  sacrifice  to  truth  and  mature 
reflection  adds  much  to  your  glory.  For  my  own  part 
(if  that  were  anything)  I  am  infinitely  more  pleased  to 
find  that  you  agree  with  me  in  several  capital  points, 
than  surprised  to  find  that  I  have  the  misfortune  to 
differ  with  you  on  some.  When  I  myself  differ  with 
persons  I  so  much  respect,  of  all  names  and  parties,  it  is 
but  just  (indeed  it  costs  me  nothing  to  do  it)  that  I  should 
bear  in  others  that  disagreement  in  sentiment  and  opi- 
nions, which  at  any  rate  is  so  natural,  and  which,  perhaps, 
arises  from  a  better  view  of  things. 

"  Though  I  see  very  few  persons,  and  have,  since  my 
misfortune,*  studiously  declined  all  new  acquaintances, 
and  never  dine  out  of  my  own  family,  nor  live  at  all  in 
any  of  my  usual  societies,  not  even  in  those  with  which 
I  was  most  closely  connected,  I  shall  certainly  be  as 
happy,  as  I  shall  feel  myself  honoured  by  a  visit  from  a 
distinguished  person  like  you,  whom  I  shall  consider  as  an 
exception  to  my  rule.  I  have  no  habitation  in  London, 
nor  ever  go  to  that  place  but  with  great  reluctance,  and 
without  suffering  a  great  deal.  Nothing  but  necessity 
calls  me  thither ;  but  though  I  hardly  dare  to  ask  you  to 
come  so  far,  whenever  it  may  suit  you  to  visit  this  abode 
of  sickness  and  infirmity,  I  shall  be  glad  to  see  you.  I 
don't  know  whether  my  friend,  Dr.  Lawrence,f  and  you 

*  The  loss  of  his  son. 

t  "  I  forgot  to  speak  to  you  about  Mackintosh's  supposed  conversion. 
I  suspect,  by  his  letter,  that  it  does  not  extend  beyond  the  interior 
politics  of  this  island  ;  but  that  with  regard  to  France  and  many  other 
countries  he  remains  as  frank  a  Jacobin  as  ever.  This  conversion  is 
none  at  all ;  but  we  must  nurse  up  these  nothings,  and  think  these 
negative  advantages  as  we  can  have  them  ;  such  as  he  is,  I  shall  not 
be  displeased  if  you  bring  him  down ;  bad  as  he  may  be,  he  has  not  yet 
declared  war,  along  with  his  poor  friend  Wilde,  against  the  Pope."  — 
Burke  to  Dr.  Lawrence. 

8* 


90  LIFE    OF   THE  [1797. 

have  the  happiness  of  being  acquainted  with  each  other ; 
if  not,  I  could  wish  it  to  be  brought  about.  You  might 
come  together,  and  this  might  secure  to  you  some  enter- 
tainment ;  as  my  infirmity,  that  leaves  me  but  a  few 
easy  hours  in  my  best  days,  will  not  afford  me  the 
means  of  giving  you  any  of  those  attentions  that  are 
your  due. 

"  I  have  the  honour  to  be, 

"  With  great  respect  and  regard, 

"  Your  most  obedient, 
"  And  very  much  obliged  humble  servant, 

"EDMUND  BURKE." 

The  visit  to  Beaconsfield,  which  immediately  followed, 
was,  probably  on  account  of  the  infirm  state  of  Mr. 
Burke's  health,  confined  to  a  few  days ;  but  they  were 
days  which  his  visiter  often  recalled  to  memory  as 
amongst  the  most  interesting  of  his  life.  General  respect 
for  Mr.  Burke's  character  and  talents  he  had  always  felt 
and  expressed  ;  these  were  now  merged  into  something 
of  a  feeling  of  affection  towards  the  man.  There  unfor- 
tunately remains  no  memorial  of  this  meeting,  offered  by 
the  Hannibal  of  political  wisdom  to  his  youthful  com- 
petitor after  their  warfare.  Thoughts  worthy  of  record 
must  have  been  struck  out  by  the  collision  of  such  minds, 
so  differently  circumstanced.  The  younger,  who  had  the 
world  all  before  him,  disappointed  in  his  lofty  expecta- 
tions, still  with  the  buoyancy  of  spirit  natural  to  youth 
clinging  to  hope,  though  with  less  confidence  than  here- 
tofore —  the  elder  going  down  to  his  place  of  rest,  the 
darkness  all  round  the  horizon  only  confirming  his  fore- 
boding—  whilst  a  generous  confidence  in  enlarged  prin- 
ciples, and  an  ardent  desire  for  the  future  happiness  of 
the  race,  were  common  to  both. 

A  few  shreds  of  Mr.  Burke's  conversation  have  been, 


1797.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR    JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  91 

however,  preserved.     The  following  is  an  extract  from 
the  diary  of  a  lover  of  literature.* 

["June  13th,  1799.  Had  a  long  and  interesting 
conversation  with  Mr.  Mackintosh,  turning  principally 
on  Burke  and  Fox.  Of  Burke  he  spoke  with  rapture, 
declaring  that  he  was,  in  his  estimation,  without  any 
parallel,  in  any  age  or  country,  except,  perhaps,  Lord 
Bacon  and  Cicero :  that  his  works  contained  an  ampler 
store  of  political  and  moral  wisdom  than  could  be  found 
in  any  other  writer  whatever ;  and  that  he  was  only  not 
esteemed  the  most  severe  and  sagacious  of  reasoners, 
because  he  was  the  most  eloquent  of  men,  the  perpetual 
force  and  vigour  of  his  arguments  being  hid  from  vulgar 
observation  by  the  dazzling  glories  in  which  they  were 
enshrined.  In  taste  alone  he  thought  him  deficient;  but 
to  have  possessed  that  quality  in  addition  to  his  other, 
would  have  been  too  much  for  man. — Passed  the  last 
Christmas  [of  Mr.  Burke's  Life]  with  Burke  at  Beacons- 
field,  and  described,  in  glowing  terms,  the  astonishing 
effusions  of  his  mind  in  conversation :  perfectly  free  from 
all  taint  of  affectation ;  would  enter,  with  cordial  glee, 
into  the  sports  of  children,  rolling  about  with  them  on 
the  carpet,  and  pouring  out,  in  his  gambols,  the  sub- 
limest  images,  mingled  with  the  most  wretched  puns. — 
Anticipated  his  approaching  dissolution  with  due  solem- 
nity but  perfect  composure; — minutely  and  accurately 
informed,  to  a  wonderful  exactness,  with  respect  to  every 
fact  relative  to  the  French  Revolution.  Burke  said  of 
Fox,  with  a  deep  sigh, i  He  is  made  to  be  loved.'  Fox 
said  of  Burke,  that  Mackintosh  would  have  praised  him 
too  highly,  had  that  been  possible,  but  that  it  was  not  in 
the  power  of  man  to  do  justice  to  his  various  and  tran- 

*  Now  generally  known  to  be  the  late  Thos.  Green,  Esq.,  of  Ipswich. 


92  LIFE    OF   THE  [1797. 

scendent  merits; — declared  he  would  set  his  hand  to 
every  part  of  the  '  Preliminary  Discourse  on  the  Law  of 
Nature  and  Nations/  except  the  account  of  Liberty,  a 
subject  which  he  considered  as  purely  practical,  and 
incapable  of  strict  definition. 

"Of  Gibbon,  Mackintosh  neatly  remarked,  that  he 
might  have  been  cut  out  of  a  corner  of  Burke's  mind 
without  his  missing  it. —  Spoke  highly  of  Johnson's  prompt 
and  vigorous  powers  in  conversation;  and,  on  this  ground, 
of  Boswell's  '  Life '  of  him.  Burke,  he  said,  agreed  with 
him,  and  affirmed  that  this  work  was  a  greater  monument 
to  Johnson's  fame,  than  all  his  writings  put  together. — 
Condemned  democracy  as  the  most  monstrous  of  all 
governments,  because  it  is  impossible  at  once  to  act  and 
to  controul,  and,  consequently,  the  sovereign  power,  in 
such  a  constitution,  must  be  left  without  any  check 
whatever; — regarded  that  form  of  government  as  best, 
which  placed  the  efficient  sovereignty  in  the  hands  of  the 
natural  aristocracy  of  a  country,  subjecting  them,  in  its 
exercise,  to  the  controul  of  the  people  at  large. — Descanted 
largely  in  praise  of  our  plan  of  representation,  by  which, 
uncouth  and  anomalous  as  it  may  in  many  instances 
appear,  and,  indeed,  on  that  very  account,  such  various 
and  diversified  interests  became  proxied  in  the  House  of 
Commons.*  Our  democracy,  he  acutely  remarked,  was 
powerful,  but  concealed,  to  prevent  popular  violence ; 
our  monarchy,  prominent  and  ostensible,  to  provoke  per- 
petual jealousy.  Extolled,  in  warm  terms — which  he 
thought,  as  a  foreigner  (a  Scotchman),  he  might  do 
without  the  imputation  of  partiality,  for  he  did  not  mean 
to  include  his  own  countrymen  in  the  praise — the  charac- 

*  This,  it  is  scarcely  necessary  to  remark,  was  then  the  orthodox 
opinion  of  almost  all  parties  in  Parliament. 


1797.]  BIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  93 

teristic  Ion  naturel — the  good  temper  and  sound  sense 
of  the  English  people ;  qualities,  in  which  he  delibe- 
rately thought  us  without  a  rival  in  any  other  nation 
on  the  globe. — Strongly  defended  Burke's  paradoxical 
position,  that  vice  loses  its  malignancy  with  its  grossness,* 
on  the  principle,  that  all  disguise  is  a  limitation  upon 
vice. — Stated,  with  much  earnestness,  that  the  grand 
object  of  his  political  labours  should  be,  first  and  above 
all,  to  extinguish  a  false,  wretched,  and  fanatical  phi- 
losophy, which,  if  we  did  not  destroy,  would  assuredly 
destroy  us,  and  then  to  revive  and  rekindle  that  ancient 
genuine  spirit  of  British  liberty,  which  an  alarm,  partly 
just,  and  partly  abused,  had  smothered  for  the  present ; 
but  which,  combined  with  a  providential  succession  of 
fortunate  occurrences,  had  rendered  us,  in  better  times, 
incomparably  the  freest,  wisest,  and  happiest  nation 
under  heaven."] 

["  Talking  of  the  anti-moral  paradoxes  of  certain  phi- 
losophers of  the  new  school,  he  (Burke)  observed,  with 
indignation,  l  They  deserve  no  refutation  but  those  of 
of  the  common  hangman,  '  carnifice  potius  quam  argn- 
mentis  egent?  Their  arguments  are,  at  best,  miserable 
logomachies,  base  prostitutions  of  the  gifts  of  reason  and 
discourse,  which  God  gave  to  man  for  the  purpose  of 
exalting,  not  brutalising  his  species.  The  wretches  have 
not  the  doubtful  merit  of  sincerity ;  for,  if  they  really 
believed  what  they  published,  we  should  know  how  to 
work  with  them,  by  treating  them  as  lunatics.  No,  sir, 
these  opinions  are  put  forth  in  the  shape  of  books,  for 
the  sordid  purpose  of  deriving  a  paltry  gain  from  the 
natural  fondness  of  mankind  for  pernicious  novelties. 
As  to  the  opinions  themselves,  they  are  those  of  pure 

*  Quoted  rather  too  broadly,  "  under  which  (sensibility  of  principle) 
vice  itself  lost  half  its  evil,  by  losing  all  its  grossness." 


94  LIFE   OF   THE  [1797. 

defecated  Atheism.  Their  object  is  to  corrupt  all  that 
is  good  in  man — to  eradicate  his  immortal  soul — to  de- 
throne God  from  the  universe.  They  are  the  brood  of 
that  putrid  carcass,  that  mother  of  all  evil,  the  French 
Revolution.  I.  never  think  of  that  plague-spot  in  the 
history  of  mankind,  without  shuddering.  It  is  an  evil 
spirit  that  is  always  before  me.  There  is  not  a  mischief, 
by  which  the  moral  world  can  be  afflicted,  that  it  has 
not  let  loose  upon  it.  It  reminds  me  of  the  accursed 
things  that  crawled  in  and  out  of  the  mouth  of  the  vile 
hag  in  Spenser's  Cave  of  Error.  Here  he  repeated  that 
sublime  but  nauseous  stanza.  You,  Mr.  Mackintosh, 
are  in  vigorous  manhood;  your  intellect  is  in  its  freshest 
prime,  and  you  are  a  powerful  writer ;  you  shall  be  the 
faithful  knight  of  the  romance ;  the  brightness  of  your 
sword  will  flash  destruction  on  the  filthy  progeny.' 

"  The  conversation  turning  upon  the  late  Mr.  Richard 
Burke,  Mr.  B.  continued :  ( You,  Mr.  Mackintosh,  knew 
my  departed  son  well.  He  was,  in  all  respects,  a  finished 
man,  a  scholar,  a  philosopher,  a  gentleman,  and,  with  a 
little  practice,  he  would  have  become  a  consummate 
statesman.  All  the  graces  of  the  heart,  all  the  endow- 
ments of  the  mind,  were  his  in  perfection.  But  human 
sorrowing  is  too  limited,  too  hedged  in  by  the  interrup- 
tions of  society,  and  the  calls  of  life,  for  the  greatness  of 
such  a  loss.  I  could  almost  exclaim  with  Cornelia,  when 
she  bewailed  Pompey,  (you  know  that  fine  passage  in 
Lucan) (  Turpe  mori  post  te  solo  non  posse  dolore.' "  *] 

The  shadows  of  sickness  were  meanwhile  falling  on 
Mr.  Mackintosh's  own  home ;  and,  soon  after  his  re- 
turn from  Beaconsfield,  his  affections  were  tried  by  the 
severest  domestic  calamity  that  could  befal  them.  While 

*  Clubs  of  London,  vol.  ii.  271. 


1797.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  95 

slowly  recovering  from  the  birth  of  a  child,  Mrs.  Mackin- 
tosh was  attacked  by  a  fever,  to  which  she  soon  fell  a 
victim,  leaving  three  daughters.*  The  amount  of  his 
loss,  and  his  immediate  feelings  upon  it,  will  be  best 
seen  from  the  following  extract  from  a  letter  to  Dr. 
Parr,  written  while  the  infliction  was  still  recent,  dated 
Brighton,  April,  1797. 

"  I  use  the  first  moment  of  composure  to  return  my 
thanks  to  you  for  having  thought  of  me  in  my  affliction. 
It  was  impossible  for  you  to  know  the  bitterness  of  that 
affliction,  for  I  myself  scarcely  knew  the  greatness  of  my 
calamity  till  it  had  fallen  upon  me ;  nor  did  I  know  the 
acuteness  of  my  own  feelings  till  they  had  been  subjected 
to  this  trial.  Alas !  it  is  only  now  that  I  feel  the  value 
of  what  I  have  lost.  In  this  state  of  deep,  but  quiet 
melancholy,  which  has  succeeded  to  the  first  violent 
agitations  of  my  sorrow,  my  greatest  pleasure  is  to  look 

*  Mrs.  Mackintosh  died  April  8.  The  following  inscription  appears 
on  her  monument  in  the  Church  of  St.  Clement  Danes.  It  was  from 
the  classical  pen  of  Dr.  Parr. 

CATHARINE  •  MACKINTOSH, 
F(EMIN^E  '  PUDIC^E  •  FRUGI  '    PIM, 

MATRIFAMILIAS 

VIRI  '  TRIUMQUE  •  FILIARUM, 

QUOS  '  SUPERSTITES  •  SUI  •  RELIQUIT 

AMANTISSIMJE 

VIXIT  '  ANN  '  XXXII  '  HENS  XI  •  DIES  •  XXI. 
DECESS1T  '  SEXTO  '  ID  •  APRIL  •  ANNO  '  SACRO, 

M.DCC.XCVII. 
JACOBUS    MACKINTOSH, 

H.  M.  CON.  B.  M.  P. 

SPERANS  *  HAUD  •  LONGINQTJUM 

INTER  •  SE  '  ET  '  CATHARINAM  •  SUAM 

DIGRESSUM  *  FORE 
SIQUIDEM  '  VITAM  •  NOBIS  •  COMMORANDI  •  DIVERSORIUM 

NON  '  HABITANDI 
DEUS  '  IMMORTALIS  •  DEDIT. 


96  LIFE   OF   THE  [1797. 

back  with  gratitude  and  pious  affection  on  the  memory  of 
my  beloved  wife,  and  my  chief  consolation  is  the  soothing 
recollection  of  her  virtues.     Allow  me  in  justice  to  her 
memory  to  tell  you  what  she  was,  and  what  I  owed  her. 
I  was  guided  in  my  choice  only  by  the  blind  affection  of 
my  youth.     I   found  an  intelligent  companion,  and  a 
tender  friend,  a  prudent  monitress,  the  most  faithful  of 
wives,  and  a  mother  as  tender  as  children  ever  had  the 
misfortune  to  lose.     I  met  a  woman  who,  by  the  tender 
management  of  my  weaknesses,  gradually  corrected  the 
most  pernicious  of  them.     She   became  prudent  from 
affection  j  and  though  of  the  most  generous  nature,  she 
was  taught  economy  and  frugality  by  her  love  for  me. 
During  the  most  critical  period  of  my  life,  she  preserved 
order  in  my  affairs,  from  the  care  of  which  she  relieved 
me.      She  gently  reclaimed  me  from  dissipation;    she 
propped  my  weak  and  irresolute  nature  ;  she  urged  my 
indolence  to  all  the  exertions  that  have  been  useful  or 
creditable  to  me,  and  she  was  perpetually  at  hand  to 
admonish  my  heedlessness  and  improvidence.     To  her 
I  owe  whatever  I  am ;  to  her  whatever  I  shall  be.     In 
her  solicitude  for  my  interest,  she  never  for  a  moment 
forgot  my  feelings,  or  my  character.     Even  in  her  occa- 
sional resentment,  for  which  I  but  too  often  gave  her 
cause  (would  to  God  I  could  recal  those  moments),  she 
had  no  sullenness  or  acrimony.   Her  feelings  were  warm 
and  impetuous,  but  she  was  placable,  tender,  and  con- 
stant.    Such  was  she  whom  I  have  lost ;  and  I  have  lost 
her  when  her  excellent  natural  sense  was  rapidly  im- 
proving, after  eight  years  of  struggle  and  distress  had 
bound  us  fast  together,  and  moulded  our  tempers  to 
each  other, — when  a  knowledge  of  her  worth  had  refined 
my  youthful  love  into  friendship,  before  age  had  deprived 
it  of  much  of  its  original  ardour, — I  lost  her,  alas !  (the 
choice  of  my  youth,  and  the  partner  of  my  misfortunes) 


1799.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  97 

at  a  moment  when  I  had  the  prospect  of  her  sharing  my 
better  days. 

"  This  is,  my  dear  sir,  a  calamity  which  the  pros- 
perities of  the  world  cannot  repair.  To  expect  that 
any  thing  on  this  side  the  grave  can  make  it  up,  would 
be  vain  and  delusive  expectation.  If  I  had  lost  the 
giddy  and  thoughtless  companion  of  prosperity,  the 
world  could  easily  repair  the  loss ;  but  I  have  lost  the 
faithful  and  tender  partner  of  my  misfortunes,  and  my 
only  consolation  is  in  that  Being,  under  whose  severe 
but  paternal  chastisement  I  am  bent  down  to  the 
ground. 

"  The  philosophy  which  I  have  learnt  only  teaches  me 
that  virtue  and  friendship  are  the  greatest  of  human 
blessings,  and  that  their  loss  is  irreparable.  It  aggravates 
my  calamity,  instead  of  consoling  me  under  it.  My 
wounded  heart  seeks  another  consolation.  Governed  by 
these  feelings,  which  have  in  every  age  and  region  of  the 
world  actuated  the  human  mind,  I  seek  relief,  and  I  find 
it  in  the  soothing  hope  and  consolatory  opinion,  that  a 
Benevolent  Wisdom  inflicts  the  chastisement,  as  well  as 
bestows  the  enjoyments  of  human  life ;  that  superintend- 
ing goodness  will  one  day  enlighten  the  darkness  which 
surrounds  our  nature,  and  hangs  over  our  prospects ;  that 
this  dreary  and  wretched  life  is  not  the  whole  of  man  ; 
that  an  animal  so  sagacious  and  provident,  and  capable 
of  such  proficiency  in  science  and  virtue  is  not  like  the 
beasts  that  perish ;  that  there  is  a  dwelling-place  pre- 
pared for  the  spirits  of  the  just,  and  that  the  ways  of 
God  will  yet  be  vindicated  to  man.  The  sentiments  of 
religion  which  were  implanted  in  my  mind  in  my  early 
youth,  and  which  were  revived  by  the  awful  scenes 
which  I  have  seen  passing  before  my  eyes  in  the  world, 
are,  I  trust,  deeply  rooted  in  my  heart  by  this  great 
calamity.  I  shall  not  offend  your  rational  piety  by  say- 

VOL.  i.  9 


98  LIFE    OF   THE  [1799. 

ing  that  modes  and  opinions  appear  to  me  matters  of 
secondary  importance,  but  I  can  sincerely  declare,  that 
Christianity,  in  its  genuine  purity  and  spirit,  appears  to 
me  the  most  amiable  and  venerable  of  all  the  forms  in 
which  the  homage  of  man  has  ever  been  offered  to  the 
Author  of  his  being." 


1799.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  99 


CHAPTER  m. 

LECTURES     ON     THE     LAW     OP    NATURE     AND     NATIONS  —  PUBLICATION     OF     AN 
INTRODUCTORY  DISCOURSE  —  CRITICISMS  OF  MR.  PITT  —  LORD  LOUGHBOROUGH 

—  DR.  PARR LETTER   TO   MR.  MOORE  —  EXTRACTS  —  LETTERS   TO   MR.  MOORE 

MR.    ROBERT    HALL MR.    SHARP. 

THE  science  of  public  or  international  law,  —  a  .study 
so  congenial  to  the  generalising  and  philosophical  turn 
of  Mr.  Mackintosh's  thoughts,  —  was  a  department  of 
jurisprudence,  which  had  long  peculiarly  attracted  his 
attention.  His  mind,  in  all  its  investigations,  loved  to 
rise  to  general  principles.  Circumscribed  as  it  ordinarily 
was  by  the  studies  and  profession  of  an  individual  system 
of  municipal  law,  with  all  its  necessary  technicalities, 
it  the  more  eagerly  sought  to  relieve  itself  by  making 
excursions  on  every  side,  especially  for  the  purpose  of 
examining  those  principles  which  lie  at  the  foundation 
of  all  duty,  and  are  equally  applicable  to  all  its  forms. 
Though  the  study  of  natural  law  and  its  deductions 
forms  a  part  of  the  continental  system  of  education,  and 
even  of  that  of  Scotland,  still,  no  assistance  could  be  re- 
ceived from  that  course  of  study  which  is  pointed  out  to 
the  student  of  English  law.  This  seemed  to  him  to 
be  a  defect,  and  he  believed  that  he  should  be  con- 
ferring a  benefit  on  the  liberal  profession  to  which  he 
belonged,  could  he  enable  such  as  devoted  themselves  to 
it  to  extend  their  views  of  jurisprudence,  and  its  objects 
(especially  of  its  origin  and  foundation,  and  its  applica- 
tion to  the  interests  and  differences  of  independent  states) 
to  a  wider  range  than  is  generally  taken  by  the  mere 


100  LIFE    OF   THE  [1799. 

English  student.  These  considerations  led  him  to  form 
the  plan  of  his  "  Lectures  on  the  Law  of  Nature  and 
Nations." 

To  the  difficulties  attending  such  a  novel  attempt 
were  added  others  of  a  personal,  or  temporary  kind.  In 
England  lawyers  have  been  reproached  with  an  inveterate 
jealousy  of  any  semblance  of  innovation ;  never,  perhaps, 
more  justly  than  at  that  period.  Some  were  alarmed  at 
the  idea  of  lectures  on  the  principles  of  law  (necessarily 
involving,  in  a  certain  degree,  the  principles  of  politics) 
being  delivered  by  the  author  of  some  of  the  sentiments 
of  the  "  Vindicise  Gallicae."  To  quiet  this  alarm,  which 
would  have  been  fatal  to  his  views,  and  to  indicate  pre- 
cisely his  plan,  and  the  manner  in  which  it  was  his  in- 
tention to  treat  it,  he  published  an  "  Introductory  Dis- 
course," which  met  with  instant  and  brilliant  success. 
It  was  read  and  applauded  by  men  of  all  parties.  Lord 
Loughborough,  then  Lord  Chancellor,  spoke  loudly  in 
its  praise.*  The  Benchers  of  Lincoln's  Inn,  after  a  little 
demur  on  the  part  of  one  or  two  of  the  more  elderly, 
which  the  Chancellor's  opinion  assisted  in  overturning, 
conceded  the  use  of  their  Hall  for  the  delivery  of  the 
Lectures,  and  gave  by  this  liberal  permission  all  the 
moral  sanction  which  their  influence  could  bestow.  This 
opening  lecture  exhibits  the  general  scope  of  the  under- 
taking, and  unfolds  with  great  clearness  the  feelings 
under  which  it  was  commenced. 

"  I  have  always  been  unwilling  to  waste  in  unprofitable  in- 
activity that  leisure  which  the  first  years  of  my  profession 
usually  allow,  and  which  diligent  men,  even  with  moderate 
talents,  might  often  employ  in  a  manner  neither  discreditable 

*  Mr.  Canning,  aware  of  the  political  prejudices  which  were  enter- 
tained in  the  ministerial  circles  with  which  he  was  connected,  exerted 
his  influence  with  the  utmost  zeal  and  success  to  remove  those  unfa- 
vourable apprehensions. 


1799.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR    JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  101 

to  themselves,  nor  wholly  useless  to  others.  Being  thus  desi- 
rous that  my  own  leisure  should  not  be  consumed  in  sloth,  I 
anxiously  looked  about  for  some  way  of  filling  it  up,  which 
might  enable  me,  according  to  the  measure  of  my  humble 
abilities,  to  contribute  somewhat  to  general  usefulness.  It 
appeared  to  me  that  a  Course  of  Lectures  on  a  science  closely 
connected  with  all  liberal  professional  studies,  and  which  had 
long  been  the  subject  of  my  own  reading  and  reflection,  might 
not  only  prove  a  most  useful  introduction  to  the  law  of  England, 
but  might  also  become  an  interesting  part  of  general  studies." 

After  an  eloquent  vindication  of  the  term  "  Law  of 
Nature,"  and  a  review  of  the  works  of  the  different 
masters  of  the  science  exhibiting  its  progress,  in  which 
there  appears  a  character  of  Grotius,  worthy  his  genius 
and  virtue,*  the  vast  subject  is  marked  out  into  six 
great  divisions. 

*  [_"  So  great  is  the  uncertainty  of  posthumous  reputation,  and  so 
liable  is  the  fame,  even  of  the  greatest  men,  to  be  obscured  by  those 
new  fashions  of  thinking  and  writing,  which  succeed  each  other  so 
rapidly  among  polished  nations,  that  Grotius,  who  filled  so  large  a  space 
in  the  eyes  of  his  contemporaries,  is  now,  perhaps,  known  to  some  of 
my  readers  only  by  name.  Yet,  if  we  fairly  estimate  both  his  endow- 
ments and  his  virtues,  we  may  justly  consider  him  as  one  of  the  most 
memorable  men  who  have  done  honour  to  modern  times.  He  combined 
the  discharge  of  the  most  important  duties  of  active  and  public  life  with 
the  attainment  of  that  exact  and  various  learning  which  is  generally  the 
portion  only  of  the  recluse  student.  He  was  distinguished  as  an  advo- 
cate and  a  magistrate,  and  he  composed  the  most  valuable  works  on  the 
law  of  his  own  country ;  he  was  almost  equally  celebrated  as  a  historian, 
a  scholar,  a  poet,  and  a  divine ;  a  disinterested  statesman,  a  philosophical 
lawyer,  a  patriot  who  united  moderation  with  firmness,  and  a  theologian 
who  was  taught  candour  by  his  learning.  Unmerited  exile  did  not  damp 
his  patriotism ;  the  bitterness  of  controversy  did  not  extinguish  his 
charity.  The  sagacity  of  his  numerous  and  fierce  adversaries  could 
not  discover  a  blot  on  his  character  ;  and  in  the  midst  of  all  the  hard 
trials  and  galling  provocations  of  a  turbulent  political  life,  he  never 
once  deserted  his  friends,  when  they  were  unfortunate,  nor  insulted  his 
enemies  when  they  were  weak.  In  times  of  the  most  furious  civil  and 

9* 


102  LIFE    OF   THE  [1799. 

1.  An  analysis  of  the  nature  and  operations  of  the 
human  mind,  as  the  medium  through  which  all  know- 
ledge passes,  naturally  precedes  every  thing.     After  dis- 
missing the  selfish  system,  the  distinction  is  drawn  which 
allots  its  proper  place  to  utility  as  a  test  of,  and  not  a 
motive  to,  virtuous  actions,  and  the  fundamental  prin- 
ciples of  morality  are  defended  against  "  the  brood  of 
abominable  and  pestilential  paradoxes,"  which  were  then 
assailing  them. 

2.  The  relative  duties  of  private  life  follow,  arising 
almost  all  from  the  two  great  institutions  of  property 
and   marriage,*  in   which  an  endeavour  is  made  "to 
strengthen  some  parts  of  the  fortifications  of  morality, 
which  have  hitherto  been  neglected,  only  because  no 
man  had  ever  been  hardy  enough  to  attack  them." 

3.  He  proposed  next  to  consider  men  under  the  rela- 
tions of  subject  and  sovereign,  citizen  and  magistrate, 
the  foundation  of  political  liberty  and  political  rights ; 
he  placed  the  duties  that  arise  therefrom,  "  not  upon 
supposed  compacts,  which  are  altogether  chimerical,"  but 
upon  the  solid  basis  of  general  convenience.     Here,  in 
the  consideration  of  government  in  the  abstract,  occurs 
that  definition  of  liberty,  in  which  he  makes  it  a  security 
against  wrong ;  a  definition  in  which  he  had  the  misfor- 
tune to  differ  both  from  Mr.  Fox  and  Mr.  Burke,  who 
thought  it  a  matter  purely  practical,  and  incapable  of 


religious  faction  he  preserved  his  name  unspotted,  and  he  knew  how 
to  reconcile  fidelity  to  his  own  party  with  moderation  towards  his 
opponents."] 

*  Lord  Kenyon,  in  a  charge  about  this  time  to  a  jury,  in  an  action 
for  a  breach  of  promise  of  marriage,  observed,  that  "  all  moralists  had 
stated  the  great  importance  and  peculiar  sacredness  of  that  subject, 
from  the  earliest  writers  down  to  a  gentleman  who  was  from  day  to 
day  informing  the  world  by  lectures,  which  he  had  heard  were  most 
admirable,  and  whose  prospectus  he  had  read  with  infinite  pleasure." 


1799.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  103 

definition.  Liberty  is,  therefore,  the  subject  of  all  govern- 
ments. "  Men  are  more  free  under  every  government, 
even  the  most  imperfect,  than  they  would  be  if  it  were 
possible  for  them  to  exist  without  any  government  at 
all.  They  are  more  secure  from  wrong,  more  undisturbed 
in  the  exercise  of  their  natural  powers,  and  therefore 
more  free,  even  in  the  most  obvious  and  grossest  sense  of 
the  word,  than  if  they  were  altogether  unprotected  against 
injury  from  each  other."  This,  the  political  part  of  his 
subject,  he  concluded  with  a  view  of  the  English  consti- 
tution. 

The  municipal  law,  civil  and  criminal,  forms  the  4th 
division,  which  he  proposed  to  exemplify  by  the  progress 
of  the  two  greatest  codes  that  ever  had  been  formed — 
those  of  Rome  and  England.  The  whole  system  of 
natural  jurisprudence  having  been  gone  through,  there 
remains, 

5.  The  law  of  nations,  strictly  and  properly  so  called, 
or  the  science  which  regulates  the  application  of  the 
dictates  and  sanctions  of  individual  morality  to  the  great 
commonwealth  of  nations,  and  in  which  the  great  laws 
of  nature  being  reflected,  govern  the  moral  equally  with 
the  physical  world. 

6.  As,  from  the  complicated  intercourse  between  na- 
tions in  late  times,  the  perfect  and  natural  obligations 
have  been  much   modified,  where  not  superseded  by 
positive  treaties,  a  survey  of  the  diplomatic  and  conven- 
tional law  of  Europe,  containing  the  principal  stipulations 
of  those  treaties,  and  the  means  of  giving  effect  to  rights 
arising  out  of  them,  forming  the  really  practical  part  of 
the  law  of  nations,  concludes  the  whole. 

"  Though  the  course,  of  which  I  have  now  sketched  the  out- 
line," he  concludes,  "  may  seem  to  comprehend  a  great  variety 
of  miscellaneous  subjects,  yet  they  are  all,  in  reality,  closely  and 


104  LIFE   OF   THE  [1799. 

inseparably  interwoven.  The  duties  of  men,  of  subjects,  of 
princes,  of  lawgivers,  of  magistrates,  and  of  states,  are  all  of 
them  parts  of  one  consistent  system  of  universal  morality.  Be- 
tween the  most  abstract  and  elementary  maxim  of  moral  philo- 
sophy, and  the  most  complicated  controversies  of  civil  or  public 
law,  there  subsists  a  connection,  which  it  will  be  the  main 
object  of  these  lectures  to  trace.  The  principle  of  justice, 
deeply  rooted  in  the  nature  and  interest  of  man,  pervades  the 
whole  system,  and  is  discoverable  in  every  part  of  it,  even  to 
its  minutest  ramification  in  a  legal  formality,  or  in  the  con- 
struction of  an  article  in  a  treaty. 

"  I  know  not  whether  a  philosopher  ought  to  confess,  that  in 
his  inquiries  after  truth,  he  is  biassed  by  any  consideration, 
even  by  the  love  of  virtue ;  but  I,  who  conceive  that  a  real 
philosopher  ought  to  regard  truth  itself,  chiefly  on  account 
of  its  subserviency  to  the  happiness  of  mankind,  am  not 
ashamed  to  confess,  that  I  shall  feel  a  great  consolation  at  the 
conclusion  of  these  lectures,  if,  by  a  wide  survey  and  an  exact 
examination  of  the  conditions  and  relations  of  human  nature, 
I  shall  have  confirmed  but  one  individual  in  the  conviction 
that  justice  is  the  permanent  interest  of  all  men,  and  of  all 
commonwealths.  To  discover  one  new  link  of  that  eternal 
chain,  by  which  the  Author  of  the  universe  has  bound  together 
the  happiness  and  the  duty  of  his  creatures,  and  indissolubly 
fastened  their  interests  to  each  other,  would  fill  my  heart  with 
more  pleasure  than  all  the  fame  with  which  the  most  inge- 
nious paradox  ever  crowned  the  most  ingenious  sophist." 

No  sooner  did  the  pamphlet  issue  from  the  press,  than 
commendations  of  the  undertaking  poured  in  upon  him 
from  every  quarter.  Mr.  Pitt's  opinion  was  highly  flat- 
tering: [January  3rd,  1799.]  "I  cannot  refuse  myself 
the  satisfaction  of  assuring  you,  that  the  plan  that  you 
have  marked  out  appears  to  me  to  promise  more  use- 
ful instruction  and  just  reasoning  on  the  principles  of 
government,  than  I  have  ever  met  with  in  any  treatise 
on  that  subject.  The  manner  in  which  that  preliminary 
part  is  executed,  leaves  me  no  doubt  that  the  whole  work 


1799.]  BIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  105 

will  prove  an  equally  valuable  acquisition  in  literature 
and  politics." 

"A  lecture  in  the  spirit  of  that  discourse,"  writes 
Lord  Loughborough,  K  would  at  all  times  be  of  great 
utility,  and  of  much  ornament  to  the  profession  of  the 
law.  In  times  like  the  present,  it  is  capable  of  rendering 
great  service  to  the  cause  of  religion,  morality,  and  civil 
policy." 

A  copy  of  the  discourse  had  probably  been  sent  to  Dr. 
Parr,  whose  reply,  at  once  amusing  and  characteristic, 
shows  the  degree  of  familiarity  which  had  sprung  out  of 
common  tastes  and  pursuits. 


JEMMY.  —  On  Thursday  morning  a  learned 
and  sensible  man  called  upon  me,  and,  with  raptures,  I 
put  the  pamphlet  into  his  hand.  *  *  Now  comes 
a  secret.  A  most  abominable  imputation  of  Jacobinism 
lately  induced  me  to  prepare  for  the  press  a  most  ani- 
mated letter.  I  defy  you,  and  I  defy  Burke  and  Johnson, 
with  all  the  advantages  they  have  gained  in  another  life, 
to  go  beyond  one  passage  which  I  have  written  ;  and 
before  I  write  so  well  again,  the  darkness  of  death  will 
overshadow  me.  Oh,  Jemmy  !  how  would  you  puff  over 
your  two  hands,  and  pull  down  your  waistcoat,  and  forget 
all  the  meanness  and  all  the  malignity  of  rivalry,  and  say, 
as  I  myself  say,  of  what  I  myself  have  written  in  this  one 
passage  —  that  it  seldom  has  been  equalled,  and  never  has 
been  surpassed.  Mackintosh,  if  there  is  upon  earth  a 
man  who  is  anxious  for  your  fame,  I  am  that  man  —  not 
exclusively,  but  equal  with  all  other  men,  and  even  my- 
self. Oh,  Scotchman  !  can  I  do  more  than  this  ?  Jemmy, 
I  will  look  at  my  old  musty  folios  in  the  library  ;  I  will 
look  out  the  passage  in  Aristotle,  and  will  do  any  thing 
you  wish,  you  dog.  I  have  something  to  tell  you  about 
the  simplification  of  principles,  or  rather  the  simpleton- 


106  LIFE    OF   THE  [1799. 

jargon  about  R-r-r-eason,  and  let  us  do  the  business  well. 
I  don't  mean  us,  but  you ;  and,  you  dog,  nobody  can  do 
it  better  ;  nobody,  I  say — not  Hume,  not  Adam  Smith, 
not  Burke,  not  Dugald  Stuart ;  and  the  only  exception 
I  can  think  of  is  Lord  Bacon.  Yet,  you  dog,  I  hate  you, 
for  you  want  decision.  *  *  Oh,  Jemmy  !  feel  your 
own  powers ;  assert  your  dignity :  out  upon  vanity,  and 
cherish  pride.  *  *  I  shall  return  to  eat  a  good  dinner, 
with  good  company;  and,  you  dog,  I  wish  you  were  here 
to  quaff  my  good  port,  and  scent  my  good  tobacco. 

«  Farewell ! 

«S.  PARR. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  talking  about  petty  critics  ? 
Jemmy,  don't  affect  this  nonsense. 

"  The  favourite  passages  of  one,  certainly  not  a  petty 
critic,  were, l  the  Critiques  on  Grotius  and  Montesquieu,' 
and  the  whole  of  the  third  division,  on  the  relation  of 
citizen  and  magistrate.  The  last  is  a  very  masterly  piece 
of  exposition." 

But,  to  pass  from  individual  opinion,  the  almost  uni- 
versal estimate  of  the  merit  of  this  "  Discourse,"  and  of 
the  powers  of  mind  which  displayed  themselves  would 
appear  amply  to  justify  the  vivid  illustration  of  Camp- 
bell. "  If  Mackintosh  had  published  nothing  else  than 
his  '  Discourse  on  the  Law  of  Nature  and  Nations,'  he 
would  have  left  a  perfect  monument  of  his  intellectual 
strength  and  symmetry;  and  even  supposing  that  that 
essay  had  been  recovered,  only  imperfect  and  mutilated; 
if  but  a  score  of  its  consecutive  sentences  could  be  shown, 
they  would  bear  a  testimony  to  his  genius,  as  decided  as 
the  bust  of  Theseus  bears  to  Grecian  art  among  the  Elgin 
marbles." 

This  course,  which  began  in  February,  and  continued 


1799.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  107 

till  June  24th,  1799,  occupied  thirty-nine  lectures,  and 
•was  repeated,  with  some  variations,  the  following  year, 
part  of  the  intervening  autumn  being  spent  at  Cambridge, 
for  the  purpose  of  consulting,  in  the  course  of  further 
researches,  some  works  in  the  noble  libraries  of  that 
place. 

The  novelty  of  the  undertaking,  the  acknowledged 
abilities  of  the  author,  and  his  early  fame,  acquired  by 
the  powerful  support  of  opinions,  which  it  was  known  that 
the  course  of  public  events  had  induced  him  to  modify, 
threw  an  interest  over  the  execution  of  the  design,  that 
daily  filled  the  hall  of  Lincoln's  Inn  with  an  auditory 
such  as  never  before  was  seen  on  a  similar  occasion.  All 
classes  were  there  represented — lawyers,  members  of 
Parliament,  men  of  letters,  and  country  gentlemen, 
crowded  to  hear  him. 

On  looking  abroad  over  the  Continent,  the  moment 
seemed  to  be  well-timed  for  a  public  appeal  in  behalf  of 
laws  which  regulate  the  rights  and  intercourse  of  nations, 
in  the  only  country  where  the  voice  of  reason  could  be 
heard  amid  the  storm  of  conquest,  which,  after  the  hollow 
peace  of  Campo  Formio,  was  again  too  successfully  to  be 
directed  against  all  recognised  rights  by  him,  who  was  fitly 
qualifying  himself  as  a  successor  to  the  "iron  crown."  The 
practical  nature  of  much  of  the  knowledge  conveyed,  and 
the  mode  in  which  the  stores  of  the  great  continental 
jurists  were  made  available  for  more  superficial  politi- 
cians to  apply  to  the  present  posture  of  the  country, 
accounted  for  the  presence  of  many  who  were  able,  in 
different  spheres  of  public  exertion,  to  carry  into  prac- 
tice the  dictates  of  justice  and  freedom,  which  they  there 
heard  so  eloquently  explained,  and  ardently  enforced ; 
while  all  seemed  to  recognise,  as  the  lecturer  was  tracing 
out  through  their  mighty  maze  the  minutest  paths  of 


108  LIFE   OF   THE  [1799. 

public  and  private  duty,  the  affectionate  earnestness  of 
a  domestic  instructor.* 

His  own  account  of  the  composition  of  his  audience, 
and  of  some  of  the  difficulties  which  he  experienced  in 
the  execution  of  his  plan,  is  contained  in  a  letter  to  his 
friend,  G.  Moore,  Esq.  of  Moore  Hall,  in  the  County 
Mayo,  Ireland,  April  25th,  1799.  The  following  is  an 
extract.  "  When  I  confess  that  indolence  has  been  the 
cause  of  my  late  silence,  it  is  not  because  I  want  other 
pretexts:  my  lectures  might  serve  me  well  for  that 
purpose.  I  trusted  more  than  I  ought  to  have  done  to 
my  general  habits  of  reflection  on  the  subject.  When  I 
came  to  the  execution  of  my  plan,  I  found  it  more  toil- 
some than  I  imagined.  I  have,  however,  on  the  whole, 
been  more  successful  than  I  had  any  right  to  expect. 
The  number  of  my  pupils  amounted  to  about  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty,  among  whom  are  six  peers,  a  dozen  mem- 
bers of  the  House  of  Commons,  not  one  of  either  sort 
from  my  own  friends  in  opposition,  except  Lord  Holland 
and  Brogden.  I  own  this  piqued  me  not  a  little ;  but 
I  owe  duties  to  my  own  character,  which  their  ingra- 
titude shall  not  provoke  me  to  violate.  The  other  party 
have  shown  great  patronage  of  the  undertaking.  Grant, 
Lord  Minto,  S.  Douglas,  Canning,  &c.  have  attended 
most  of  them  regularly.  I  was  obliged  to  suspend  the 
lectures  by  the  assizes  and  quarter  sessions :  before  that 
interruption,  I  had  gone  through,  in  six  lectures,  the 
general  philosophy  of  human  nature  and  morality.  On 
Monday,  the  8th  April,  I  resumed  the  lectures  on  the 

*  One  day,  when  hurrying  to  the  Hall,  he  was  detained  by  rendering 
assistance  to  a  man  who  had  fallen  down  in  a  fit  in  the  street.  Upon 
arriving  in  the  room,  he  found  that  the  audience  had  been  kept  waiting 
some  time  for  him.  He  apologised  to  them,  and  mentioned  the  cause  of 
his  delay,  adding, "  After  all,  gentlemen,  practice  is  better  than  precept." 


1799.]  RIGHT  HON.   SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  109 

great  questions  of  property  and  marriage.  On  both  these 
subjects  I  really  find  very  scanty  assistance  in  the  works 
of  the  best  writers.  As  to  publication,  that  is  a  matter 
which,  if  it  ever  takes  place,  must  wait  a  long  tune ; 
several  years  will  be  necessary  to  digest  and  improve  the 
work ;  and  before  it  can  be  finished,  perhaps  even  this 
last  asylum  of  civilisation  (for  it  would  be  trifling  now 
to  speak  of  liberty)  will  be  invaded  by  the  spoilers  of 
the  world.  The  report  of  the  day  is,  that  Jourdan  has 
again  been  beaten  by  his  old  conqueror,  the  arch-duke. 
God  grant  that  it  may  be  so.  But  you  know  that  I  am 
a  very  desponding  politician."  * 

It  would  be  vain,  in  the  narrow  limits  assigned  to 
these  pages,  to  attempt  to  give  any  idea  of  the  minuter 
divisions  of  the  extensive  subjects  which  he  treated,  or 

*  ["  June  20,  1800.  —  Had  a  long  conference  with  Mr.  Mackintosh. 
He  maintains  pretty  nearly  the  same  political  sentiments  as  when  I  last 
saw  him  (June  13th,  1799),  except  that  he  spoke  more  despondingly 

of  the  revival  of  the  spirit  of  freedom  in  this  country.  Of he 

observed,  with  all  his  wisdom  he  was  foolish  enough  to  be  factious,  and 
from  an  aversion  to  the  present  administration  (in  common  with  him- 
self) as  enemies  to  freedom,  to  lend  his  countenance  and  support  to  a 
party  who  were  prepared  to  introduce  a  domination  ten  times  more 
formidable.  Expressed  a  vehement  disgust  at  the  intolerance  of  these 
bigots  for  pretended  liberality.  Exhibited,  in  a  very  striking  point  of 
view,  the  difficulty  of  the  return  of  order,  combined  with  liberty,  in 
France,  in  consequence  of  the  enormous  confiscations  which  had  taken 
place  there,  and  which  he  computed  at  not  much  less  than  nine-tenths 
of  the  whole  landed  property  of  the  country ;  and  remarked  on  this 
subject,  that  a  similar  proceeding  was  felt  to  this  very  hour,  in  pro- 
ducing a  fund  of  discontent  and  disaffection  in  Ireland :  —  mentioned 
that,  upon  asking  Fox's  opinion  of  what  he  had  observed,  of  the  neces- 
sary complexity  of  all  free  governments,  from  the  various  elements 
out  of  which  they  must  arise,  and  the  various  interests  with  which  they 
must  be  charged,  Fox  said  that  nothing  certainly  could  be  more  true, 
nor  any  thing  more  foolish  than  the  doctrines  of  the  advocates  for  sim- 
pler forms  of  government."  —  Diary  of  a  Lover  of  Literature. 

VOL.  I.  10 


110  LIFE    OF    THE  [1799. 

the  wide  range  of  knowledge  and  talent  by  which  it  was 
illustrated.  But  it  may  on  various  accounts,  be  proper 
to  give  that  part  of  his  first  lecture,  in  which  his  views 
are  explained.  It  will  be  seen  from  it,  that  his  imme- 
diate object  was  indeed  different  from  that  of  the  Vin- 
dicise  Gallicae,  and  his  other  early  works,  but  that  his 
principles  were  the  same,  and  his  love  of  practicable 
liberty  and  free  inquiry  unchanged.  In  the  first  he  rose 
up  to  defend  freedom  against  the  attacks  of  high  aris- 
tocratic and  despotic  principles ;  he  now  came  forward 
to  defend  the  very  foundations  of  society  against  the 
fury  of  a  wild  enthusiasm,  which  usurped  the  name  of 
reason.  His  aim  was  to  draw,  from  the  armoury  of 
Philosophy  herself,  weapons,  wherewith  to  repel  a  phan- 
tom that  had  assumed  her  name.  In  executing  these 
intentions,  the  ardour  of  extempore  composition  may  at 
times  have  hurried  him  beyond  the  line  which  he  had 
laid  down  to  himself,  and  given  to  individuals,  whom  he 
respected,  some  cause  to  complain.  But  a  certain  un- 
measured wildness,  which  had  infested  the  moral  reason- 
ings of  the  period,  naturally  led  to  a  corresponding  excess 
in  the  combatant  who  attacked  them.*  That  such  had 


*  [In  these  lectures  he  showed  greater  confidence,  was  more  at  home. 
The  effect  was  more  electrical  and  instantaneous,  and  this  elicited  a 
prouder  display  of  intellectual  riches,  and  a  more  animated  and  imposing 
mode  of  delivery.  He  grew  wanton  with  success.  Dazzling  others 
with  the  brilliancy  of  his  acquirements,  dazzled  himself  by  the  admira- 
tion they  excited,  he  lost  fear  as  well  as  prudence — dared  every  thing — 
carried  every  thing  before  him.  The  modern  philosophy,  counterscarp, 
outworks,  citadel,  and  all,  fell  without  a  blow,  by  "  the  whiff  and  wind 
of  his  fell  doctrine"  as  if  it  had  been  a  pack  of  cards.  The  volcano  of 
the  French  Revolution  was  seen  expiring  in  its  own  flames,  like  a  bon- 
fire made  of  straw.  The  principles  of  reform  were  scattered  in  all 
directions,  like  chaff  before  the  keen  northern  blast.  He  laid  about  him 
like  one  inspired — nothing  could  withstand  his  envenomed  tooth.  Like 


1799.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  Ill 

been  the  case  in  one  instance  —  in  his  Observations  on 
the  Principles  of  the  author  of  the  celebrated  Political 
Justice  —  he  himself,  as  will  be  seen,  with  the  candour 
that  so  pre-eminently  distinguished  him,  afterwards  ac- 
knowledged. 

"  In  laying  open  this  plan,  I  am  aware  that  men  of 
finished  judgment  and  experience  will  feel  an  unwilling- 
ness, not  altogether  unmingled  with  disgust,  at  being 
called  back  to  the  first  rudiments  of  their  knowledge.  I 
know  with  what  contempt  they  look  down  on  the  sophi&- 
tical  controversies  of  the  schools.  I  own  that  their  disgust 
is  always  natural,  and  their  contempt  often  just.  Some- 
thing has  already  been  said  in  vindication  of  myself  on 
this  subject  in  my  published  discourse,  but  perhaps  not 
enough.  I  entreat  such  men  to  consider  the  circumstances 
of  the  times  in  which  we  live.  A  body  of  writers  has 
arisen  in  all  the  countries  of  Europe,  who  represent  all 
the  ancient  usages,  all  the  received  opinions,  all  the  fun- 
damental principles,  all  the  most  revered  institutions  of 
mankind,  as  founded  in  absurdity,  requiring  the  aid  both 
of  oppression  and  imposture,  and  leading  to  the  degrada- 
tion and  misery  of  the  human  race.  This  attack  is  con- 
ducted upon  principles  which  are  said  to  be  philosophical, 
and  such  is  the  state  of  Europe,  that  I  will  venture  to 
affirm,  that,  unless  our  ancient  opinions  and  establishments 
can  also  be  vindicated  upon  philosophical  principles,  they 
will  not  long  be  able  to  maintain  that  place  in  the  affection 

some  savage  beast  got  into  the  garden  of  the  fabled  Hesperides,  he 
made  clear  Work  of  it,  root  and  branch  ;  with  white  foaming  tusks  — 

"  Laid  waste  the  borders,  and  o'erthrew  the  bowers." 

The  havoc  was  amazing,  the  desolation  was  complete.  As  to  our 
visionary  sceptics  and  philosophers,  they  stood  no  chance  with  our 
lecturer  ;  he  did  not  "  carve  them  as  a  dish  fit  for  the  gods,"  but  hewed 
them  as  a  carcass  fit  for  hounds.  —  Hazlitt.~] 


112  LIFE    OF   THE  [1799. 

and  veneration  of  mankind,  from  which  they  derive  all 
their  strength.  In  this  case,  I  trust  I  shall  be  forgiven 
if  I  dig  deeply  into  theory,  and  explore  the  solid  founda- 
tions of  practice  —  if  I  call  in  the  aid  of  philosophy,  not 
for  the  destruction,  but  for  the  defence,  of  experience. 
Permit  me  to  say,  the  unnatural  separation  and,  much 
more,  the  frequent  hostility  of  speculation  and  practice, 
have  been  fatal  to  science  and  fatal  to  mankind.  They 
are  destined  to  move  harmoniously,  each  in  its  own  orbit, 
as  members  of  one  grand  system  of  universal  Wisdom. 
Guided  by  one  common  law,  illuminated  from  one 
common  source,  reflecting  light  on  each  other,  and  con- 
spiring, by  their  movements,  to  the  use  and  beauty  [of 
one  grand]  whole.  Believe  me,  gentlemen,  when  we 
have  examined  this  question  thoroughly,  we  shall  be 
persuaded  that  that  refined  and  exquisite  good  sense, 
applied  to  the  most  important  matters,  which  is  called 
Philosophy,  never  differs,  and  never  can  differ  in  its 
dictates,  from  that  other  sort  of  good  sense,  which  is 
employed  in  the  guidance  of  human  life.  There  is, 
indeed,  a  philosophy,  falsely  so  called,  which,  on  a  hasty 
glance  over  the  surface  of  human  life,  condemns  all  our 
institutions  to  destruction,  which  stigmatises  all  our 
most  natural  and  useful  feelings  as  prejudices ;  and 
which,  in  the  vain  effort  to  implant  in  us  principles 
which  take  no  root  in  human  nature,  would  extirpate  all 
those  principles  which  sweeten  and  ennoble  the  life  of 
man.  The  general  character  of  this  system  is  diametri- 
cally opposite  to  that  of  true  philosophy  :  —  wanting 
philosophical  modesty,  it  is  arrogant — philosophical  cau- 
tion, it  is  rash  —  philosophical  calmness,  it  is  headstrong 
and  fanatical.  Instead  of  that  diffidence,  and,  if  I  may 
so  speak,  of  that  scepticism  and  cowardice,  which  is  the 
first  lesson  of  philosophy,  when  we  are  to  treat  of  the 
happiness  of  human  beings,  we  find  a  system  as  dog- 


1799.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR    JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  113 

matical,  boastful,  heedless  of  every  thing  but  its  own 
short-sighted  views,  and  intoxicated  with  the  perpetual 
and  exclusive  contemplation  of  its  own  system  of  dis- 
order, and  demonstrations  of  insanity.  This  is  not 
that  philosophy  which  Cicero  calls  "  philosophiam  illam 
matrem  omnium  benefactorum  beneque  dictorum  ; "  for 
its  direct  tendency  is  to  wither  and  blast  every  amiable 
and  every  exalted  sentiment,  from  which  either  virtue, 
or  eloquence  can  flow,  by  holding  up  to  the  imagination 
an  ideal  picture  of  I  know  not  what  future  perfection  of 
human  society.  The  doctors  of  this  system  teach  their 
disciples  to  loathe  that  state  of  society  in  which  they 
must  live  and  act,  to  despise  and  abhor  what  they  cannot 
be  virtuous  and  happy  without  loving  and  revering — to 
consider  all  our  present  virtues  either  as  specious  vices, 
or  at  best  but  as  the  inferior  and  contemptible  duties  of 
a  degraded  condition,  from  which  the  human  race  must 
and  will  speedily  escape.  Of  this  supposed  state  of 
future  perfection  (though  it  be  utterly  irreconcilable 
with  reason,  with  experience,  or  with  analogy),  the 
masters  of  this  sect  speak  as  confidently,  as  if  it  were 
one  of  the  best  authenticated  events  in  history.  It  is 
proposed  as  an  object  of  pursuit  and  attainment.  It  is 
said  to  be  useful  to  have  such  a  model  of  a  perfect 
society  before  our  eyes,  though  we  can  never  reach  it. 
It  is  said  at  least  to  be  one  of  the  harmless  speculations 
of  benevolent  visionaries.  But  this  is  not  true.  The 
tendency  of  such  a  system  (I  impute  no  evil  intentions 
to  its  promulgators)  is  to  make  the  whole  present  order 
of  human  life  appear  so  loathsome  and  hideous,  that  there 
is  nothing  in  it  to  justify  either  warm  affection,  or  zealous 
exertion,  or  even  serious  pursuit.  In  seeking  an  unat- 
tainable perfection,  it  tears  up  by  the  roots  every 
principle  which  leads  to  the  substantial  and  practicable 
improvement  of  mankind.  It  thwarts  its  own  purpose, 

10* 


114  LIFE   OF   THE  [1799. 

and  tends  to  replunge  men  into  depravity  and  barbarism. 
Such  a  philosophy,  I  acknowledge,  must  be  at  perpetual 
variance  with  practice,  because  it  must  wage  eternal  war 
with  truth.  From  such  a  philosophy  I  can  hope  to  receive 
no  aid  in  the  attempt,  which  is  the  main  object  of  these 
lectures,  to  conclude  a  treaty  of  peace,  if  I  may  venture 
so  to  express  myself,  between  the  worlds  of  speculation 
and  practice,  which  were  designed  by  nature  to  help 
each  other,  but  which  have  been  so  long  arrayed  against 
each  other,  by  the  pretended  or  misguided  friends  of 
either.  The  philosophy  from  which  I  shall  seek  assist- 
ance in  building  up  [my  theory  of]  morals,  is  of  another 
character ;  better  adapted,  I  trust,  to  serve  as  the  found- 
ation of  that  which  has  been  called,  with  so  much  truth, 
and  with  such  majestic  simplicity, '  amplissimam  omnium 
artium,  bene  vivendi  disciplinam.'  The  true  philosophy 
of  morality  and  politics  is  founded  on  experience.  It 
„ never,  therefore,  can  contradict  that  practical  prudence, 
which  is  the  more  direct  issue  of  experience.  Guided 
by  the  spirit  of  that  philosophy,  which  is 

'  Not  harsh  or  crabbed,  as  dull  fools  suppose, 
But  musical,  as  is  Apollo's  lute,' 

I  shall,  in  my  inquiries  into  human  nature,  only  take  to 
pieces  the  principles  of  our  conduct,  that  I  may  the 
better  show  the  necessity  of  putting  them  together  — 
analyze  them,  that  I  may  display  their  use  and  beauty, 
and  that  I  may  furnish  new  motives  to  cherish  and  cul- 
tivate them.  In  the  examination  of  laws,  I  shall  not  set 
out  with  the  assumption,  that  all  the  wise  men  of  the 
world  have  been  hitherto  toiling  to  build  up  an  elabo- 
rate system  of  folly,  a  stupendous  edifice  of  injustice. 
As  I  think  the  contrary  presumption  more  reasonable  as 
well  as  more  modest,  I  shall  think  it  my  duty  to  explore 
the  codes  of  nations,  for  those  treasures  of  reason  which 


1799.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  115 

must  have  been  deposited  there  by  that  vast  stream  of 
wisdom,  which,  for  so  many  ages,  has  been  flowing  over 
them. 

"  Such  a  philosophy  will  be  terrible  to  none  of  my 
hearers.  Empirical  statesmen  have  despised  science,  and 
visionary  speculators  have  despised  experience ;  but  he 
who  was  both  a  philosopher  and  a  statesman,  has  told 
us,  'This  is  that  which  will  indeed  dignify  and  exalt 
knowledge,  if  contemplation  and  action  may  be  more 
nearly  conjoined  and  united  than  they  have  hitherto 
been.'  These  are  the  words  of  Lord  Bacon;*  and  in 
his  spirit  I  shall,  throughout  these  lectures,  labour  with 
all  my  might  to  prove,  that  philosophical  truth  is,  in 
reality,  the  foundation  of  civil  and  moral  prudence.  In 
the  execution  of  this  task,  I  trust  I  shall  be  able  to  avoid 
all  obscurity  of  language.  Jargon  is  not  philosophy — 
though  he  who  first  assumed  the  name  of  philosopher,  is 
said  by  Lucian  to  have  confessed  that  he  made  his  doc- 
trines wonderful  to  attract  the  admiration  of  the  vulgar. 
You  will,  I  hope,  prefer  the  taste  of  a  greater  than 
Pythagoras,  of  whom  it  was  said, '  that  it  was  his  course 
to  make  wonders  plain,  not  plain  things  wonderful.' "  •}* 


*  In  his  copy  of  Lord  Bacon's  Works  was  the  following  note :  —  "  Jus 
naturae  et  gentium  diligentius  tractaturus,  omne  quod  in  Verulamio  ad 
jurisprudentiam  universalem  spectat  relegit  J  M  apud  Broadstairs  in 
agro  Rutupiano  Cantiae,  anno  salutis  humanae  1798,  late  turn  flagrante 
per  Europae  felices  quondam  populos  misero  fatalique  bello,  in  quo 
nefarii  et  scelestissimi  latrones  infando  consilio  aperte  et  audacter,  vir- 
tutem,  libertatem,  Dei  Immortalis  cultum,  mores  et  instituta  majorum, 
hanc  denique  pulcherrime  et  sapientissime  constitutam  rempublicam 
labefactare,  et  penitus  evertere  conantur." — A  plan  of  study,  which, 
some  time  after  he  wrote  out  for  a  young  friend,  concludes  thus:  "And 
as  the  result  of  all  study,  and  the  consummation  of  all  wisdom,  Bacon's 
Essays  to  be  read,  studied,  and  converted  into  part  of  the  substance  of 
your  mind." 

t  MS.  Lectures  on  the  Law  of  Nature  and  Nations. 


116  LIFE   OF   THE  [1799. 

In  the  course  of  his  lectures  he  had  opportunities, 
which  he  did  not  neglect,  of  indulging  in  many  of  his 
favourite  metaphysical  and  moral  speculations.  The 
foundation  of  moral  obligation  and  its  tests  he  examined 
at  great  length,  and  with  much  acuteness ;  he  entered 
into  a  question  which,  many  years  after,  received  from 
him  almost  as  much  elucidation  as  can  be  hoped, — the 
relation  of  conscience  and  utility,  as  the  guides  of  moral 
conduct  -,  he  showed  the  vanity  of  every  system  that 
would  sacrifice  the  particular  affections  to  general  bene- 
volence ;  the  origin  and  use  of  rules  and  of  habits  to 
the  moral  being.  The  subjects  of  property  and  mar- 
riage he  justly  dwelt  upon  at  great  length ;  since,  as  he 
observes,  u  if  you  look  into  any  system  of  religious  or 
philosophical  morals,  or  into  any  civil  or  criminal  code, 
you  will  find  [almost]  all  the  duties  which  they  pre- 
scribe, and  all  the  crimes  which  they  prohibit,  relate  to 
these  two  great  institutions."  But  the  Introductory  Dis- 
course, which  has  been  published,  will  give  a  better  idea 
of  the  wide  range  travelled  over,  and  the  nature  of  this 
vast  undertaking,  than  any  enumeration  of  the  general 
topics  could  afford. 

The  following  defence  of  the  classical  system  of  educa- 
tion, as  pursued  in  the  public  schools  and  colleges  of 
England,  is,  however,  inserted,  as  admitting  of  easy  sepa- 
ration from  the  context.  There  is  something  exceedingly 
happy  in  the  development  of  the  connexion  between  those 
studies,  and  one  of  the  leading  branches  of  the  inquiry 
which  he  was  pursuing. 

"  As  a  part  of  general  education,  I  have  no  intention 
to  insinuate  that  there  is  any  deficiency  in  the  original 
plan,  or  in  the  present  conduct  of  those  noble  seminaries 
of  learning  where  the  youth  of  England  are  trained  up  in 
all  the  liberal  and  ingenious  arts :  far  be  such  petulant, 
irreverent  insinuations  from  my  mind.  Though  I  am  in 


1799.]  BIGHT  HOX.   SIB  JAMBS   MACKINTOSH.  117 

some  measure  a  foreigner  in  England,  though  I  am  a 
stranger  to  their  advantages,  jet  no  British  heart  can  be 
a  stranger  to  their  glory. 

'  Xon  obtasa  adeo  gestamos  pectora.' 

I  can  look  with  no  common  feelings  on  the  schools 
which  sent  forth  a  Bacon  and  a  Milton,  a  Hooker  and 
a  Locke.  I  have  often  contemplated  with  mingled  sen- 
sations of  pleasure  and  awe,  those  magnificent  monu- 
ments of  the  veneration  of  our  ancestors  for  piety  and 
learning.  May  they  long  flourish,  and  surpass,  if  that 
be  possible,  their  ancient  glory. 

"  I  am  not  one  of  those  who  think  that,  in  the  system 
of  English  education,  too  much  time  and  labour  are 
employed  in  the  study  of  the  languages  of  Greece  and 
Home ;  it  is  a  popular,  but,  in  my  humble  opinion,  a 
very  shallow  and  vulgar  objection.  It  would  be  easy,  I 
think,  to  prove  that  too  much  time  can  be  scarcely 
employed  on  these  languages  by  any  nation  which  is 
desirous  of  preserving  either  that  purity  of  taste,  which 
is  its  brightest  ornament,  or  that  purity  of  morals,  which 
is  its  strongest  bulwark. 

"  You  may  be  sure,  gentlemen,  that  I  am  not  going  to 
waste  your  time  by  expanding  the  common-places  of  pane- 
gyric on  classical  learning.  I  shall  not  speak  of  the  neces- 
sity of  recurring  to  the  best  models  for  the  formation  of 
taste.  When  any  modern  poets  or  orators  shall  have 
excelled  Homer  and  Demosthenes ;  and  when  any  con- 
siderable number  of  unlettered  modern  writers  (for  I 
have  no  concern  with  extraordinary  exceptions)  shall 
have  attained  eminence,  it  will  be  time  enough  to  discuss 
the  question.  But  I  entreat  you  to  consider  the  con- 
nexion between  classical  learning  and  morality,  which  I 
think  as  real  and  as  close  as  its  connexion  with  taste, 
although  I  do  not  find  that  it  has  been  so  often  noticed. 


118  LIFE    OF   THE  [1799. 

If  we  were  to  devise  a  method  for  infusing  morality  into 
the  tender  minds  of  youth,  we  should  certainly  not 
attempt  it  by  arguments  and  rules,  by  definition  and 
demonstration.  We  should  certainly  endeavour  to  attain 
our  object  by  insinuating  morals  in  the  disguise  of  his- 
tory, of  poetry,  and  of  eloquence  ;  by  heroic  examples, 
by  pathetic  incidents,  by  sentiments  that  either  exalt 
and  fortify,  or  soften  and  melt,  the  human  heart.  If  phi- 
losophical ingenuity  were  to  devise  a  plan  of  moral 
instruction,  these,  I  think,  would  be  its  outlines.  But 
such  a  plan  already  exists.  Classical  education  is  that 
plan;  nor  can  modern  history  and  literature  even  be 
substituted  in  its  stead.  Modern  example  can  never  im- 
print on  the  youthful  mind  the  grand  and  authoritative 
sentiment,  that  in  the  most  distant  ages,  and  in  states  of 
society  the  most  unlike,  the  same  virtues  have  been  the 
object  of  human  veneration.  Strip  virtue  of  the  awful 
authority  which  she  derives  from  the  general  reverence 
of  mankind,  and  you  rob  her  of  half  her  majesty.  Modern 
character  never  could  animate  youth  to  noble  exertions 
of  duty  and  of  genius,  by  the  example  of  that  durable 
glory  which  awaits  them  after  death,  and  which,  in  the 
case  of  the  illustrious  ancients,  they  see  has  survived  the 
subversion  of  empires,  and  even  the  extinction  of  nations. 
Modern  men  are  too  near  and  too  familiar,  to  inspire 
that  enthusiasm  with  which  we  must  view  those  who  are 
to  be  our  models  in  virtue.  When  our  fancy  would  exalt 
them  to  the  level  of  our  temporary  admiration,  it  is  per- 
petually checked  by  some  trivial  circumstance,  by  some 
mean  association, — perhaps  by  some  ludicrous  recollec- 
tion,— which  damps  and  extinguishes  our  enthusiasm. 
They  had  the  same  manners  which  we  see  every  day 
degraded  by  ordinary  and  vicious  men ;  they  spoke  the 
language  which  we  hear  polluted  by  the  use  of  the  igno- 
rant and  the  vulgar.  But  ancient  sages  and  patriots  are, 


1799.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  119 

as  it  were,  exalted  by  difference  of  language  and  manners, 
above  every  thing  that  is  familiar,  and  low,  and  debasing. 
And  if  there  be  something  in  ancient  examples  not 
fit  to  be  imitated,  or  even  to  be  approved  in  modern 
times,  yet,  let  it  be  recollected,  that  distance  not  only 
adds  to  their  authority,  but  softens  their  fierceness. 
When  we  contemplate  them  at  such  a  distance,  the 
ferocity  is  lost,  and  the  magnanimity  only  reaches  us. 
These  noble  studies  preserve,  and  they  only  can  preserve 
the  unbroken  chain  of  learning  which  unites  the  most 
remote  generations;  the  grand  catholic  communion  of 
wisdom  and  wise  men  throughout  all  ages  and  nations 
of  the  world.  '  If,'  says  Lord  Bacon, '  the  intention  of 
the  ship  was  thought  so  noble,  which  carrieth  riches  and 
commodities  from  place  to  place,  and  consociateth  the 
most  remote  regions  in  participation  of  their  fruits,  how 
much  more  are  letters  to  be  magnified,  which,  as  ships, 
pass  through  the  vast  seas  of  time,  and  make  ages 
so  distant  participate  of  the  wisdom,  illuminations,  and 
inventions,  the  one  of  the  other  ! '  Alas !  gentlemen ; 
what  can  I  say  that  will  not  seem  flat,  and  tame,  and 
insipid,  after  this  divine  wisdom  and  divine  eloquence  ? 
But  this  great  commerce  between  ages  will  be  broken 
and  intercepted ;  the  human  race  will  be  reduced  to  the 
scanty  stock  of  their  own  age,  unless  the  latest  genera- 
tions are  united  to  the  earliest  by  an  early  and  intimate 
knowledge  of  their  language,  and  their  literature.  From 
the  experience  of  former  times,  I  will  venture  to  predict, 
that  no  man  will  ever  obtain  lasting  fame  in  learning, 
who  is  not  enlightened  by  the  knowledge,  and  inspired 
by  the  genius,  of  those  who  have  gone  before  him.  But 
if  this  be  true  in  other  sciences,  it  is  ten  thousand  times 
more  evident  in  the  science  of  morals. 

"  I  have  said  in  my  printed  Discourse,  that  morality 
admits  no  discoveries ;  and  I  shall  now  give  you  some 


120  LIFE    OF   THE  [1799. 

reasons  for  a  position,  which  may  perhaps  have  startled 
some,  in  an  age  when  ancient  opinions  seem  in  danger 
of  being  so  exploded,  that  when  they  are  produced 
again,  they  may  appear  novelties,  and  be  even  suspected 
of  paradox.  I  do  not  speak  of  the  theory  of  morals,  but  of 
the  rule  of  life.  First  examine  the  fact,  and  see  whether, 
from  the  earliest  times,  any  improvement,  or  even  any 
change,  has  been  made  in  the  practical  rules  of  human 
conduct.  Look  at  the  code  of  Moses.  I  speak  of  it 
now  as  a  mere  human  composition,  without  considering 
its  sacred  origin.  Considering  it  merely  in  that  light, 
it  is  the  most  ancient  and  the  most  curious  memorial  of 
the  early  history  of  mankind.  More  than  three  thousand 
years  have  elapsed  since  the  composition  of  the  Penta- 
teuch ;  and  let  any  man,  if  he  is  able,  tell  me  in  what 
important  respects  the  rule  of  life  has  varied  since  that 
distant  period.  Let  the  Institutes  of  Menu  be  explored 
with  the  same  view ;  we  shall  arrive  at  the  same  con- 
clusion. Let  the  books  of  false  religion  be  opened ;  it 
will  be  found  that  their  moral  system  is,  in  all  its  grand 
features,  the  same.  The  impostors  who  composed  them 
were  compelled  to  pay  this  homage  to  the  uniform  moral 
sentiments  of  the  world.  Examine  the  codes  of  nations, 
those  authentic  depositories  of  the  moral  judgments  of 
men ;  you  every  where  find  the  same  rules  prescribed, 
the  same  duties  imposed :  even  the  boldest  of  these 
ingenious  sceptics  who  have  attacked  every  other  opinion, 
has  spared  the  sacred  and  immutable  simplicity  of  the 
rules  of  life.  In  our  common  duties,  Bayle  and  Hume 
agree  with  Bossuet  and  Barrow.  Such  as  the  rule  was 
at  the  first  dawn  of  history,  such  it  continues  till  the 
present  day.  Ages  roll  over  mankind  ;  mighty  nations 
pass  away  like  a  shadow ;  virtue  alone  remains  the  same, 
immortal  and  unchangeable. 

"  The  fact  is  evident,  that  no  improvements  have  been 


1799.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  121 

made  in  practical  morality.  The  reasons  of  this  fact  it 
is  not  difficult  to  discover.  It  will  be  very  plain,  on  the 
least  consideration,  that  mankind  must  so  completely 
have  formed  their  rule  of  life,  in  the  most  early  times, 
that  no  subsequent  improvements  could  change  it.  The 
chances  of  a  science  being  improvable,  seem  chiefly  to 
depend  on  two  considerations. 

"  When  the  facts  which  are  the  groundwork  of  a  science 
are  obvious,  and  when  the  motive  which  urges  men  to 
the  investigation  of  them  is  very  powerful,  we  may 
always  expect  that  such  a  science  will  be  so  quickly 
perfected,  in  the  most  early  times,  as  to  leave  little  for 
after  ages  to  add.  When,  on  the  contrary,  the  facts  are 
remote  and  of  difficult  access,  and  when  the  motive 
which  stimulates  men  to  consider  them  is  not  urgent,  we 
may  expect  that  such  a  science  will  be  neglected  by  the 
first  generations  of  mankind ;  and  that  there  will  be, 
therefore,  a  boundless  field  for  its  improvement  left  open 
to  succeeding  times.  This  is  the  grand  distinction  be- 
tween morality,  and  all  other  sciences.  This  is  the  prin- 
ciple which  explains  its  peculiar  history  and  singular 
fortune.  It  is  for  this  reason  that  it  has  remained  for 
thirty  centuries  unchanged,  and  that  we  have  no  ground 
to  expect  that  it  will  be  materially  improved,  if  this  globe 
should  continue  inhabited  by  men  for  twice  thirty  cen- 
turies more.  The  facts  which  lead  to  the  formation  of 
moral  rules  are  as  accessible,  and  must  be  as  obvious,  to 
the  simplest  barbarian,  as  to  the  most  enlightened  philo- 
sopher. It  requires  no  telescope  to  discover  that  undis- 
tinguishing  and  perpetual  slaughter  will  terminate  in  the 
destruction  of  his  race.  The  motive  that  leads  him  to 
consider  them  is  the  most  powerful  that  can  be  imagined. 
It  is  the  care  of  preserving  his  own  existence.  The 
case  of  the  physical  and  speculative  sciences  is  directly 
opposite.  There  the  facts  are  remote,  and  scarcely  acces- 

VOL.  i.  11 


122  LIFE    OF    THE  [1799. 

sible  ;  and  the  motive  that  induces  us  to  explore  them  is 
comparatively  weak.  It  is  only  curiosity  ;  or,  at  most, 
only  a  desire  to  multiply  the  conveniences  and  ornaments 
of  life.  It  is  not,  therefore,  till  very  late  in  the  progress 
of  refinement,  that  these  sciences  become  an  object  of 
cultivation.  From  the  countless  variety  of  the  facts,  with 
which  they  are  conversant,  it  is  impossible  to  prescribe 
any  bounds  to  their  future  improvement.  It  is  otherwise 
with  morals.  They  have  hitherto  been  stationary ;  and, 
in  my  opinion,  they  are  likely  for  ever  to  continue  so."  * 
It  is  well  known  that  the  general  tenor  of  these  lectures, 
but,  perhaps,  still  more  the  support  ostentatiously  given 
to  them  by  the  ministers  of  the  day,  and  their  con- 
nexions, had  a  tendency  to  alienate  from  him  several  of 
his  old  political  friends.  That  the  tone  of  these  lectures 
was  different  from  that  of  the  "  Vindiciae  Gallicse,"  and  of 
his  "  Letter  to  Mr.  Pitt,"  cannot  be  denied.  The  latter 
were  the  production  of  a  generous  young  man,  animated 
by  the  hopes  of  a  great  political  and  moral  revolution 
and  reformation  in  human  affairs.  The  glorious  cause  in 
which  he  then  contended,  had  yet  been  deformed  by  few 
excesses ;  and  these,  apparently,  casual  and  transitory. 
A  bright  career  of  happiness  seemed  to  be  then  opening 
on  the  world  —  an  expectation  likely  to  excite  minds  in 
proportion  as  they  were  themselves  consciously  noble  and 
virtuous  —  few  of  which  kind,  indeed,  at  that  time  there 
were,  whose  moral  vision  was  not  somewhat  dazzled  and 
bewildered  by  the  sight  of 

"  the  banner  bright  that  was  unfurled 
Before  them  suddenly." 

Seven  eventful  years  had  changed  the  scene ;  France  had 
been  deluged  with  blood,  and  Europe  overrun  by  hostile 
armies.  Very  wild  and  irrational  opinions,  some  of  them 

*  MS.  Lectures. 


1799.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  123 

destructive  of  the  very  foundation  of  civil  society,  had, 
in  pretty  extensive  classes,  gained  considerable  currency. 
The  friends  of  liberty,  though  unshaken  in  their  final 
hopes,  saw  the  wished-for  termination  removed  to  a  great, 
and  a  very  uncertain  distance.  The  difficulty  now  was, 
not  to  give  an  impulse  to  the  torpor  of  political  indif- 
ference, but  to  check  the  madness  of  wild  and  irrational 
projects  of  change.  Men  of  feeling  turned  away  from 
the  abused  name  of  liberty,  which  they  were  almost 
tempted  to  abjure.  Men  of  firmer  minds,  while  they 
regretted  what  they  could  not  prevent,  still  cherished  the 
fire  of  genuine  freedom,  kept  it  alive  for  better  times, 
and  turned  their  exertions,  on  the  one  hand,  to  moderate 
the  intemperance  of  those  who  called  themselves  lovers 
of  freedom  ;  and,  on  the  other,  to  sustain  the  assaults 
which  they  believed  to  be  directed  against  its  very  ex- 
istence, by  the  alarms  and  terrors  of  those  in  power. 

Mr.  Mackintosh,  as  he  had  been  one  of  the  first  to 
hail  the  rise  of  liberty  in  Europe,  was  also  among  those 
who  felt  first  and  most  acutely  the  momentary  disap- 
pointment of  the  glorious  hopes  which  had  been  excited. 
Without  diminishing  one  iota  of  his  love  of  freedom,  he 
felt  early  a  melancholy  change  in  the  hopes  of  seeing  it 
established  so  quickly  and  so  purely  as  he  had  once  anti- 
cipated. He  was  too  honest  and  impartial  not  to  acknow- 
ledge this  change  in  his  feelings.  It  had  now  for  some 
years  influenced  his  conversation ;  and  when  he  resolved 
to  give  his  lectures  on  the  subject  of  law,  he  naturally 
directed  the  force  of  his  observations,  rather  against  the 
errors  which  he  regarded  as  the  dangerous  evils  of  the 
time,  than  in  favour  of  those  principles  of  liberty,  of  which 
he  had  formerly  been  the  successful  advocate.  He  did 
this  with  greater  earnestness  in  the  course  which  occu- 
pied the  second  year  (1800),  the  event  to  Avhich  he  alludes 
in  the  first  of  the  two  following  letters  —  the  erection  of 


124  LIFE   OF   THE  [1800- 

the  consular  government  —  having  taken  place  in  the 
interval,  wherewith  "  to  point  his  moral "  more  distinctly. 
In  both  of  these  communications  appears  a  kindly  desire 
to  be  of  service  to  his  friends,  especially  in  furtherance 
of  any  literary  aim  j  on  which  occasion  he  could  become 
almost  laborious. 

TO    GEORGE   MOORE,   ESQ. 

"  Cote  House,  near  Bristol,* 
"  January  Qth,  1800. 

"Mr  DEAR  MOORE,  —  I  only  received  your  letter  of 
the  26th  December,  yesterday ;  but,  before  I  left  town, 
I  had  taken  every  means  of  making  my  admiration  of 
your  pamphlet  on  the  State  of  Ireland,  known  to  all  the 
world  except  yourself.  Nothing,  in  my  opinion,  can  be 
more  just  than  your  general  principles.  I  have  not 
sufficient  knowledge  of  the  state  of  Ireland,  to  decide 
whether  the  application  of  your  principles  be  equally 
just ;  but  it  is  certainly  very  plausible  and  ingenious. 
The  composition  is,  I  think,  always  in  the  best  taste, 
and  rises  occasionally  (which  is  all  that  taste  allows)  into 
very  animated,  vigorous  and  splendid  eloquence.  I  was, 
indeed,  so  struck  with  all  these  excellences  of  the  pam- 
phlet, that  I  caused  Debrett  to  reprint  a  small  edition 
for  London ;  in  which  I  took  the  liberty  of  altering  a 
very  few  phrases.  I  have  reviewed  it  both  in  the  British 
Critic  and  Monthly  Review ;  and  I  have  sent  a  copy  to 
Canning,  that  it  might  get  into  the  hands  of  ministers. 
I  also  intend  to  send  a  copy  to  the  Chancellor.  I  think 
it  impossible  that  they  should  fail  to  admire  it ;  it  is  such 
a  pamphlet  as  they  very  rarely  see.  *  *  *  There 
is  nothing  in  public  matters  to  speak  of,  except  the  last 
extraordinary  revolution  in  France,  which  has  rooted  up 
every  principle  of  democracy  in  that  country,  and  banished 

*  The  residence  of  his  brother-in-law,  John  Wedgwood,  Esq. 


1800.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  125 

the  people  from  all  concern  in  the  government,  not  for  a 
season,  as  former  usurpers  pretended,  but  for  ever,  if  this 
accursed  revolution  be  destined  to  be  permanent.  Any 
degree  of  liberty  of  election  is  found  to  be  inconsistent 
with  the  security  of  the  grants.  The  whole  power  is  now 
openly  vested  for  ever  in  Buonaparte,  and  a  body  of  his 
creatures,  the  leading  sophists  and  robbers  of  the  revo- 
lution ;  the  new  nobility  of  dishonour,  the  patricians  of 
Jacobinism,  of  whom  the  noblesse  de  la  robe  are  doctors 
of  rapine,  and  the  noblesse  de  fepee  are  the  heroes  of 
the  2nd  of  September.  The  virtuous  Barrere  is  recalled 
to  Paris,  to  sit,  no  doubt,  among  those  senators  whom 
Brutus,  indeed,  would  have  hanged,  but  whom  Spartacus 
would  have  chosen  for  the  ringleaders  of  his  gang.  I 
greatly  admire  your  honesty  and  magnanimity,  in  openly 
professing  your  conversion.  I  think  I  shall  have  the 
courage  to  imitate  you.  I  have  too  long  submitted  to 
mean  and  evasive  compromises.  It  is  my  intention,  in 
this  winter's  lectures,  to  profess  publicly  and  unequi- 
vocally, that  I  abhor,  abjure,  and  for  ever  renounce  the 
French  revolution,  with  all  its  sanguinary  history,  its 
abominable  principles,  and  for  ever  execrable  leaders. 
I  hope  I  shall  be  able  to  wipe  off  the  disgrace  of  having 
been  once  betrayed  into  an  approbation  of  that  conspi- 
racy against  God  and  man,  the  greatest  scourge  of  the 
world,  and  the  chief  stain  upon  human  annals.  But  I 
feel  that  I  am  transported  by  my  subject  to  the  borders 
of  rant. 

"  Mrs.  M.  and  I  have  been  here  a  fortnight.     We 
return  to  town,  with  Allen,  in  a  week,  where  we  shall 

hope  soon  to  see  you.     If be  a  man  of  talents,  I 

hope  he  will  prepare  for  you  the  triumph  of  a  reply.  We 
both  entreat  that  you  will  assure  Byrne,*  that  we  often 


*  Patrick  Byrne,  Esq.,  of  Wilderwick,  in  the  county  of  Surry. 
11* 


126  LIFE   OF   THE  [1800. 

speak,  and  still  oftener  think  of  him,  with  that  affection- 
ate friendship,  that  is  nothing  but  his  due.  I  have 
known  few  men  of  so  much  taste  and  sense ;  none  of 
more  warmth,  or  more  thoroughly  amiable.  I  can  say 
for  myself,  and  I  believe  Mrs.  M.  will  agree  with  me,  that 
if  I  were  to  choose  my  neighbours  for  life,  I  should  fix 
on  you  and  him.  Adieu,  jusqu'  au  revoir.  • 

"  Ever  affectionately  yours, 

"  JAMES  MACKINTOSH." 

TO  THE  REVEREND  ROBERT  HALL. 

"  Serle  Street,  Lincoln's  Inn,  26th  March,  1800. 

"  DEAR  HALL,  —  From  the  enclosed  letter  you  will  see 
the  opinion  which  the  Bishop  of  London  *  has  formed 
of  your  sermon  ;-j-  and  you  will  observe  that  he  does  some 
justice  to  your  merit.  Mr.  Archdeacon  Eaton,  to  whom 
the  letter  was  written,  has  allowed  me  to  send  it  to  you ; 
and  I  thought  it  might  not  be  disagreeable  to  you  to  have 
it  as  the  opinion  of  a  man,  not,  indeed,  of  very  vigorous 
understanding,  but  an  elegant  writer,  a  man  of  taste  and 
virtue  —  not  to  mention  his  high  station  in  the  church. 

"  I  last  night  had  a  conversation  about  the  sermon 
with  a  man  of  much  greater  talents,  at  a  place  where 
theological,  or  even  literary  discussions  are  seldom  heard. 
It  was  with  Mr.  Windham,  at  the  Duchess  of  Gordon's 
rout.  I  asked  him  whether  he  had  read  it.  He  told 
me  that  he  had  ;  that  he  recommended  it  to  every  body, 
and  among  others,  on  that  very  day,  to  the  new  Bishop 
of  Bangor,J  who  had  dined  with  him.  He  said  th.at  he 
was  exceedingly  struck  with  the  style,  but  still  more  with 
the  matter.  He  particularly  praised  the  passage  on  vanity 
as  an  admirable  commentary  on  Mr.  Burke's  observations 

*  Dr.  Porteus.  t  "  On  Modern  Infidelity." 

J  Dr.  Cleaver. 


1800.]  EIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  127 

on  vanity,  in  his  character  of  Rousseau.  He  did  not  like 
it  the  worse,  he  said,  for  being  taken  from  the  source  of 
all  good,  as  he  considered  Mr.  Burke's  works  to  be.  He 
thought,  however,  that  you  had  carried  your  attack  on 
vanity  rather  too  far.  He  had  recommended  the  sermon 
to  Lord  Grenville,  who  seemed  sceptical  about  any  thing 
good  coming  from  the  pastor  of  a  Baptist  congregation, 
especially  at  Cambridge. 

"This,  you  see,  is  the  unhappy  impression  which 
Priestley  has  made,  and  which,  if  you  proceed  as  you  have 
so  nobly  begun,  you  will  assuredly  efface.  But  you  will 
never  do  all  the  good  which  it  is  in  your  power  to  do, 
unless  you  assert  your  own  importance,  and  call  to  mind 
that,  as  the  Dissenters  have  no  man  comparable  to  you, 
it  is  your  province  to  guide  them,  and  not  to  be  guided 
by  their  ignorance  and  bigotry.  I  am  almost  sorry  you 
thought  any  apology  due  to  those  senseless  bigots  who 
blamed  you  for  compassion  [towards]  the  clergy  of 
France,  as  innocent  sufferers,  and  as  martyrs  of  the 
Christian  faith  during  the  most  barbarous  persecution 
that  has  fallen  upon  Christianity,  perhaps,  since  its 
origin,  but  certainly,  since  its  establishment  by  Constan- 
tine.  *  *  I  own,  I  thought  well  of  Horsley  when  I 
found  him,  in  his  charge,  calling  these  unhappy  men, 
'our  Christian  brethren — the  bishops  and  clergy  of  the 
persecuted  church  of  France  ! '  This  is  the  language  of 
truth.  This  is  the  spirit  of  Christianity. 

"  I  met  with  a  combination  in  Ovid  the  other  day, 
which  would  have  suited  your  sermon.  Speaking  of  the 
human  descendants  of  the  giants,  he  says — 

*  Sed  et  ilia  propago 

'  Contemptrix  superum,  saevaeque  avidissima  ccedis, 
'  Et  violenta  fuit.    Scires  e  sanguine  natos.' —  MET.  i.,  160. 

"  The  union  of  ferocity  with  irreligion  is  agreeable  to 
your  reasoning. 


128  LIFE    OF    THE  [1800. 

"I  am  going  to  send  copies  of  my  third  edition*  to 
Paley  and  Watson,  to  Fox  and  the  Lord  Chancellor.-)-  I 
should  like  to  send  copies  of  your  sermon  with  them. 
If  you  will  direct  six  copies  to  be  sent  here,  I  shall  dis- 
tribute them  in  such  a  manner  as  will,  I  think,  not  be 
hurtful. 

"  Mrs.  Mackintosh  joins  me  in  the  most  kind  and 
respectful  remembrance.     Believe  me  ever, 
"Dear  Hall, 

"  Your  affectionate  friend, 

"JAMES  MACKINTOSH." 

No  narration,  however,  of  the  gradual  change  which 
his  political  sentiments  had  undergone,  and  which  he 
had  thus  unreservedly  announced,  can  be  so  satisfactory, 
as  one  which  is  conveyed  in  the  following  extract  of  a 
letter  to  Mr.  Sharp, — a  friend  whose  good  opinion  he 
always  considered  a  sufficient  counterbalance  to  almost 
any  amount  of  general  misrepresentation — written  at 
Bombay  some  time  afterwards,  [December  9,  1804,] 
when  he  found  the  misconception  to  which  the  exercise 
of  the  right  of  reviewing  his  opinions,  as  a  philosopher, 
had  exposed  him.  Prefixed  to  it  is  only  a  summary,  in 
his  own  words,  of  what  he  conceived  to  be  the  errors  of 
both  parties,  so  far  as  they  arose  from  error  of  judgment. 
"  The  opposition  mistook  the  moral  character  of  the 
revolution ;  the  ministers  mistook  its  force :  and  both 
parties,  from  pique,  resentment,  pride,  habit,  and  obsti- 
nacy, persisted  in  acting  on  these  mistakes  after  they 
were  disabused  by  experience.  Mr.  Burke  alone  avoided 
both  these  fatal  mistakes.  He  saw  both  the  malignity 
and  the  strength  of  the  revolution.  But  where  there  was 


*  Of  the  Discourse  on  the  Study  of  the  Law  of  Nature  and  Nations, 
t  The  Earl  of  Eosslyn. 


1800.]  RIGHT  HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  129 

wisdom  to  discover  the  truth,  there  was  not  power,  and 
perhaps  there  was  not  practical  skill,  to  make  that  wis- 
dom available  for  the  salvation  of  Europe — Diis  aliter 
visum! 

"  My  fortune  has  been  in  some  respects  very  singular. 
I  have  lately  read  the  lives,  and  private  correspondence 
of  some  of  the  most  memorable  men  in  different  countries 
of  Europe  who  are  lately  dead.  Klopstock,  Kant,  Lava- 
ter,  Alfieri — they  were  all  filled  with  joy  and  hope  by 
the  French  revolution — they  clung  to  it  for  a  longer  or 
shorter  time — they  were  all  compelled  to  relinquish  their 
illusions.  The  disappointment  of  all  was  bitter,  but  it 
showed  itself  in  various  modes,  according  to  the  variety 
of  their  characters.  The  series  of  passions  growing  out 
of  that  disappointment  was  the  not  very  remote  cause  of 
the  death  of  Lavater.  In  the  midst  of  society  Alfieri 
buried  himself  in  misanthropic  solitude ;  and  the  shock, 
which  awakened  him  from  the  dreams  of  enthusiasm, 
darkened  and  shortened  his  days.  In  the  mean  time  the 
multitude, —  comprehending  not  only  those  who  have 
neither  ardour  of  sensibility,  nor  compass  of  understand- 
ing to  give  weight  to  their  suffrage,  but  those,  also,  whom 
accident  had  not  brought  into  close  and  perpetual  contact 
with  the  events, — were  insensibly  detached  from  the 
revolution ;  and  before  they  were  well  aware  that  they 
had  quitted  their  old  position,  they  found  themselves  at 
the  antipodes.  As  they  moved  in  a  body,  they  were  not 
conscious  of  moving  at  all.  They  thought  themselves  in 
the  same  place,  because  they  were  in  the  same  company. 
Their  place  was  unchanged  relatively  to  each  other.  The 
same  names,  the  same  colours,  the  same  order  of  battle, 
the  same  camp  in  one  sense,  seemed  to  be  the  same  camp 
in  every  other.  Unfortunately  for  me  I  was  neither  in 
the  one  nor  the  other  class.  I  do  not  speak  of  the  genius 
of  the  persons  I  have  named,  all  pretension  to  which  it 


130  LIFE   OF   THE  [1800. 

would  be  arrogance  in  me  even  to  disclaim.  I  speak 
merely  of  their  enviable  privilege,  as  private  men  of 
letters,  to  listen  to  the  dictates  of  experience,  and  to 
change  their  opinions  without  any  other  penalty  than 
the  disappointment  of  their  own  too  sanguine  hopes. 
This  privilege  was  not  mine. 

"  Filled  with  enthusiasm,  in  very  early  youth,  by  the 
promise  of  a  better  order  of  society,  I  most  unwarily 
ventured  on  publication,  when  my  judgment  and  taste 
were  equally  immature.  It  is  the  nature  of  a  political 
publication,  in  a  free  country,  to  associate  the  author, 
however  obscurely  and  humbly,  with  practical  politics. 
He  will  generally  be  more  sure  to  feel  the  restraints  than 
the  advantages  of  the  connexion.  However  little  he 
may  be  aware  of  it,  he  is  in  a  new  world.  He  has  left 
the  world  where  truth  and  falsehood  were  the  great 
objects  of  desire  and  aversion,  and  come  into  that  where 
convenience  and  mischief  are  the  grand  contending 
powers.  Opinions  are  no  longer  considered  but  as  their 
prevalence  will  forward  or  defeat  measures;  and  measures 
neither  can  be,  nor  ought  to  be,  separated  from  the  men, 
who  are  to  execute  them.  But  in  the  changing  state  of 
human  affairs,  the  man  who  is  constant  to  his  opinions 
will  be  sometimes  thought  inconstant  to  his  politics. 
Now  leaders  of  parties,  and  men  of  the  world  in  general, 
regard  practical  pursuits  as  of  such  paramount  import- 
ance, and  mere  opinions  as  so  flimsy  and  frivolous,  that 
they  can  hardly  believe  in  the  sincerity  of  the  poor  specu- 
lator, who  has  not  quite  thrown  off  his  scholastic  habits. 
This  disposition  is  in  general  useful,  for  measures  and 
not  opinions  are  their  business ;  and  a  man  will  do  more 
good  by  overvaluing  his  own  objects,  (without  which  he 
will  commonly  not  pursue  them  ardently  enough,)  than 
he  can  do  harm  by  undervaluing  and  unjustly  depreciating 
the  objects  of  others.  But  it  is  a  hard  operation  on  the 


1800.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  131 

unfortunate  speculator,  who  is  very  apt  to  be  suspected 
of  insincerity  from  a  mere  fanatical  excess  of  that  zeal 
for  what  appears  to  him  to  be  truth,  which  is  a  sort  of 
honesty. 

"  I  brought  this  disposition  with  me  into  that  narrow 
and  dark  corner  of  the  political  world,  where  my  activity 
was  exerted.  At  the  same  time  warm  personal  attach- 
ments, I  might  almost  call  them  affections,  which  I  had 
felt  from  my  youth,  which  I  thought,  and  still  think, 
upon  strict  principles  of  reason,  to  be  necessary  parts  of 
all  practical  politics  in  a  free  state,  blended  themselves 
with  mine.  Those  only  who  had  irrevocably  attached 
their  early  hopes,  their  little  reputation,  which  they  might 
be  pardoned  for  exaggerating,  and  even,  as  they  con- 
ceived, their  moral  character,  to  the  success  or  failure  of 
the  French  revolution,  can  conceive  the  succession  of 
feelings,  most  of  them  very  painful,  which  agitated  my 
mind  during  its  progress.  They  alone  knew  my  feelings 
from  whom  no  sentiments  of  mine  could  be  concealed. 
The  witnesses  of  my  emotion  on  the  murder  of  General 
Dillon — on  the  10th  of  August — on  the  massacre  of  the 
prisons — on  the  death  of  the  king,  are  now  no  more. 
But  the  memory  of  what  it  is  no  hyperbole  to  call  my 
sufferings,  is  at  this  instant  fresh.  As  often  as  I  call  to 
mind  these  proofs  of  deep  and  most  unaffected  interest 
in  the  fortunes  of  mankind,  the  indignation,  the  grief,  the 
shame,  which  were  not  on  my  lips,  but  at.  the  bottom  of 
my  heart,  I  feel  an  assured  confidence  of  my  own  honesty 
of  which  no  calumniator  shall  ever  rob  me. 

"The  revolution  continued  so  much  to  occupy  my 
thoughts,  that  I  could  not  help  constantly  exercising  my 
judgment  on  it.  I  could  not  forget  it,  nor  shut  my  eyes 
on  its  events.  It  had  grown  to  such  a  size,  in  my  con- 
ception, that  I  could  not  quite  consider  it  in  that  subor- 
dination to  domestic  politics  which  was  natural  to  those 


132  LIFE   OF   THE  [1800. 

who  had  great  objects  of  domestic  ambition.  My  mind 
was  so  fixed  on  it,  that  I  could  not  but  be  most  distinctly 
conscious  of  every  modification  that  my  opinions  respect- 
ing it  underwent.  My  changes  were  slow,  and  were  still 
more  slowly  avowed.  But  they  were  not  insensible,  and 
I  could  not  hope  to  persuade  myself  that  I  remained 
unchanged.  I  was  restrained  from  making  these  changes 
known,  by  the  common  motives,  good,  bad,  and  indifferent, 
which  act  in  these  cases.  My  situation  was  too  private 
to  give  me  many  opportunities  of  doing  so.  The  attach- 
ments of  party,  which  I  consider  as  justifiable  on  principle, 
restrained  me  also  very  considerably.  Like  most  other 
men,  I  was  not  very  fond  of  owning  that  I  had  been 
mistaken,  or  of  contradicting  the  opinion  of  those  with 
whom  I  lived,  or  of  adopting  any  part  of  the  doctrines  of 
those,  whom  I  had  been  accustomed  to  oppose.  Still  less 
was  I  willing  to  incur  the  lash  of  that  vulgar  propensity 
in  human  nature,  which  refers  every  thing  to  plain  and 
gross  motives.  I  often  reproached  myself  for  being  pre- 
vented from  speaking,  as  I  thought,  by  false  honour  and 
false  shame.  I  sometimes  lamented  the  peculiarities  of 
my  condition,  which  seemed  to  make  concealment  a  virtue. 
But  on  reviewing  these  things  calmly,  I  find  no  fault  in 
general  with  the  state  of  things  which  makes  the  avowal 
of  supposed  political  error  a  difficult  act.  I  do  not  com- 
plain of  the  laws  of  nature,  nor  do  I  wish  the  moral  order 
of  society  changed  for  my  convenience.  In  general,  I 
think,  these  impediments  have  a  beneficial  tendency,  as 
a  prevention  of  levity,  and  an  antidote  to  corruption,  and 
as  rendering  deliberation  more  probable,  before  an  opinion 
is  either  adopted  or  abandoned. 

"  You,  I  know,  will  bear  with  me  when  I  spea*k  with 
some  particularity  of  things  important  only  to  myself. 
My  lectures  gave  me  an  opportunity  of  speaking  my 
opinion.  I  have  examined  myself  pretty  severely  with 


1800.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  133 

respect  to  the  manner,  in  which  I  availed  myself  of  that 
opportunity.  As  the  adherent  of  a  party,  (for  such  I  pro- 
fessed myself  to  be,  and  as  such,  therefore,  my  conduct 
may  doubtless  be  tried,)  I  cannot,  on  the  most  rigorous 
scrutiny,  find  the  least  reason  for  blame.  Personal  attach- 
ment, as  well  as  general  (though  not  undistinguishing) 
preference  of  the  same  party,  to  whom  I  had  from  child- 
hood been  attached,  secured  me  perfectly  from  any  in- 
tentional, and  from  any  considerable  deviation. 

"  As  a  political  philosopher  I  will  not  say  that  I  now 
entirely  approve  the  very  shades  and  tones  of  political 
doctrine  which  distinguished  these  lectures.  I  can  easily 
see  that  I  rebounded  from  my  original  opinions  too  far 
towards  the  opposite  extreme.  I  was  carried  too  far  by 
anxiety  to  atone  for  my  former  errors.  In  opposing 
revolutionary  principles,  the  natural  heat  of  controversy 
led  to  excess.  It  was  very  difficult  to  preserve  the  calm 
scientific  temper  of  academical  lectures,  for  a  person  agi- 
tated by  so  many  feelings,  in  the  year  of  the  conquest  of 
Switzerland,  in  the  heart  of  London,  to  an  audience,  the 
very  appearance  of  many  among  whom  was  sufficient  to 
suggest  trains  of  thought  unfavourable  to  perfect  impar- 
tiality, and,  indeed,  to  rekindle  many  of  the  passions  of 
active  political  contest.  I  will  not  affect  to  say  that  I 
preserved  it.  The  exaggeration  incident  to  all  popular 
speaking,  certainly  affected  even  those  statements  of 
general  principles  which  ought  to  have  been  the  most 
anxiously  preserved  from  its  influence. 

"  But  is  this  confession  very  important  ?  Have  I 
stated  any  thing  more  than  a  part  of  those  inevitable 
frailties  for  which  allowance  is  always  made  by  rational 
men,  and  which  are  always  understood  whether  they  be 
enumerated  or  not  ?  At  this  moment,  it  is  true,  I 
suppose  myself  in  a  better  position  for  impartiality.  I 
therefore  take  it  upon  me  to  rejudge  my  past  judgments. 

VOL.  i.  12 


134  LIFE   OF   THE  [1800. 

But  can  I  be  quite  certain  that  the  establishment  of 
monarchical  despotism  in  France,  and  the  horrible  effects 
of  tyranny  and  imposture  around  me  in  this  country, 
may  not  have  driven  my  understanding  once  more  to 
a  point  a  little  on  the  democratic  side  of  the  centre  ? 
I  own  I  rather  suspect  myself  of  this ;  and  though  I 
labour  to  correct  the  deviation,  and  am  convinced  that 
it  is  much  less  than  ever  it  was  before,  yet  I  am  so 
sensible  of  the  difficulty  of  discerning  the  middle  point 
in  politics,  and  of  the  still  greater  difficulty  of  resting 
near  it,  in  the  midst  of  so  many  disturbing  powers,  that 
I  cannot  but  feel  some  distrust  of  my  present  judgment, 
and  some  disposition  not  to  refuse  to  my  own  past 
errors  that  toleration,  which  I  never  withheld  from 
those  of  other  men.  I  am  the  more  inclined  to  suppose 
that  I  may,  without  injustice,  exercise  this  toleration 
towards  myself,  because  I  am  confident  that  I  never 
fell  into  any  slavish  principles  —  any  doctrines  adverse 
to  the  free  exercise  of  reason,  to  the  liberty  and  the 
improvement  of  mankind.  Such  doctrines,  I  admit, 
lower  even  the  moral  dignity  of  the  mind  which  holds 
them. 

"  If  I  committed  any  fault  which  approaches  to  immo- 
rality, I  think  it  was  towards  Mr.  Godwin.  I  condemn 
myself  for  contributing  to  any  clamour  against  philo- 
sophical speculations ;  and  I  allow  that,  both  from  his 
talents  and  character,  he  was  entitled  to  be  treated  with 
respect.  Better  men  than  I  am,  have  still  more  wronged 
their  antagonists  in  controversy,  on  subjects,  and  at  times 
in  which  they  might  easily  have  been  dispassionate,  and 
without  the  temptation  and  excuse  of  popular  harangues. 
But  I  do  not  seek  shelter  from  their  example.  I  acknow- 
ledge my  fault ;  and  if  I  had  not  been  withheld  by  blind 
usage,  from  listening  to  the  voice  of  my  own  reason, 
I  should  long  ago  have  made  the  acknowledgment  to 


1800.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  135 

Mr.  G.,  from  whom  I  have  no  wish  that  it  should  now 
be  concealed. 

"  In  the  mean  time,  I  had  no  reason  to  complain  of 
the  manner  in  which  I  was  treated  by  all  those,  for  whose 
opinion  I  had  any  value.  The  character  of  openness  and 
disinterestedness,  which  I  thought  had  been  acknow- 
ledged by  all  who  thought  me  important  enough  to  be 
the  subject  of  any  opinion,  did,  at  that  time,  seem  to 
protect  me  from  harsh  imputations.  A  slight  rumour  or 
two,  soon  dispelled  —  a  buzz  among  some  very  obscure 
partisans; — the  attacks  of  the  more  extravagant  repub- 
licans, and  of  the  small  sect  of  Godwinians,  were  all  the 
petty  inconveniences  which  I  experienced.  I  was  in  this 
manner  lulled  into  a  more  entire  confidence,  and  flattered 
into  a  notion  that  I  needed  no  policy  to  guard  me  against 
the  suspicion  of  dispositions,  which  I  was  perfectly  con- 
scious had  no  place  in  my  breast.  Being  without  malice, 
I  thought  myself  without  enemies.  I  never  supposed  my 
conduct  to  be  either  important  or  ambiguous  enough  to 
require  dexterity  in  its  management ;  and  I  did  not  think 
that  the  arts  of  this  sort  of  equivocal  prudence  would  have 
been  a  good  proof  of  probity.  I  was  not  then  so  simple 
as  not  to  be  perfectly  aware,  that  with  a  little  adroitness 
it  is  very  easy  to  give  a  superficial  colour  of  consistency 
to  the  grossest  inconsistencies;  but  I  really  thought  myself 
so  perfectly  safe,  that  I  might  abandon  myself,  without 
scruple,  to  the  unthinking  and  incautious  frankness  which 
had  been  my  usual  habit.  And,  indeed,  if  I  had  thought 
otherwise,  I  am  not  sure  whether  I  should  have  suc- 
ceeded in  a  scheme  for  which  my  nature  was  not  adapted. 
I  did  not  then  foresee  that  this  very  frankness  might 
raise  up  as  many  enemies  as  malice  itself,  especially  if 
an  opportunity  of  attack  were  well  chosen  by  a  dexterous 
enemy,  or,  what  was  worse,  a  credulous,  capricious,  or 


136  LIFE    OF   THE  [1800. 

wrongheaded  friend.  And  I  certainly  did  not  think  that 
my  little  reputation,  and  still  more  trifling  preferment, 
could  have  excited  jealousy  enough  to  be  an  auxiliary 
worth  naming  in  such  an  attack. 

"  After  having  disburdened  my  mind  in  my  lectures, 
two  or  three  years  passed  in  which  literature,  profes- 
sional pursuits,  and  political  questions,  then  first  arising, 
unconnected  with  the  revolutionary  controversies,  began 
to  divert  my  attention  from  these  painful  subjects  of 
reflection." 


1800.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR    JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  137 


CHAPTER  IV. 

MARRIAGE  —  VISITS     CRES8ELLT  —  LETTER     TO     MR.     MOOHE  —  PROFESSIONAL 
AVOCATIONS  —  LETTER     FROM    MR.    MONTAGU     TO     THE     EDITOR  —  LITERARY 

OCCUPATIONS VISIT  TO    SCOTLAND  —  EXTRACT    FROM    MR.  MOORE'S  JOURNAL 

VISIT    TO    PARIS LETTER   TO   MR.    DUGALD    STEWART TRIAL   OF   PELTIER 

APPOINTMENT  AS  RECORDER  OF  BOMBAY FAREWELL  LETTERS  TO  M.  GENTZ 

— MR.    SHARP — MR.    PHILIPS  —  FROM   MR.  HORNER  —  MR.    HALL  —  EMBARKS   AT 
BYDE. 

MR.  MACKINTOSH  had  now  been,  for  the  second  time, 
married  (April  10th,  1798).  The  object  of  his  present 
choice  was  Catherine,  the  second  daughter  of  John  Allen, 
Esq.,  of  Cresselly,  in  the  county  of  Pembroke,  who,  like 
his  own  father,  had,  in  early  life,  served  in  Germany 
during  some  campaigns  of  the  "  seven  years'  war."  To 
her  warm  affection,  displayed  first  in  the  care  of  his 
three  orphan  daughters,  and  afterwards  as  the  com- 
panion of  a  long  life,  and  the  mother  of  a  rising  family, 
he  owed,  for  many  years,  that  u  happiness,  for  which," 
in  his  own  words,  "  nothing  beyond  the  threshold  can 
offer  any  equivalent."  During  the  few  years  which 
immediately  followed,  his  life  passed  on  —  happily,  as 
would  appear  from  an  observation  which  once  fell  from 
him,  "  that  they  were  perhaps  the  most  agreeable  of  his 
life  "  —  in  the  uniform  exercise  of  his  profession,  and  in 
the  enjoyment  of  the  refined  and  intellectual  society  in 
which  he  so  much  delighted.  As  an  agreeable  rallying 
point,  in  addition  to  the  ordinary  meetings  of  a  social 
circle,  a  dinner-club  (christened  "The  King  of  Clubs" 
by  Mr.  Robert  Smith)  was  founded  by  a  party  at  his 

12* 


138  LIFE    OF   THE  [1800. 

house,  consisting  of  himself  and  the  five  following  gen- 
tlemen, all  of  whom  still  survive  :  —  Mr.  Rogers,  Mr. 
Sharp,  Mr.  Robert  Smith,  Mr.  Scarlett,  and  Mn  John 
Allen.  To  these  original  members  were  afterwards 
added,  the  names  of  many  of  the  most  distinguished  men 
of  the  tune  ;  *  and  it  was  with  parental  pride  and  satis- 
faction that  he  received  intelligence,  some  time  after,  of 
their  "being  compelled  to  exclude  strangers,  and  to 
limit  their  numbers ;  so  that  in  what  way  <  The  King  of 
Clubs '  eats,  by  what  secret  rites  and  institutions  it  is 
conducted,  must  be  matter  of  conjecture  to  the  ingenious 
antiquary,  but  can  never  be  regularly  transmitted  to 
posterity  by  the  faithful  historian."  •)• 

"In  the  spring  of  1800,"  writes  one  of  the  new 
relatives  his  marriage  had  given  him,  "  I  was  a  good 
deal  at  M.'s,  in  Serle  Street.  Dr.  Parr  was  also  very 
much  there  at  that  time,  making  commonly  one  of  our 
family  party  every  evening.  I  wish  my  memory  had 
retained  any  thing  of  the  conversations  that  then  passed, 
but  the  strongest  impression  that  remains  with  me  of 
this  time  is  the  accustomed  good-nature  and  unceasing 
desire  of  M.  to  oblige  and  to  give  to  others  the  most 
prominent  place  in  society.  I  recollect  one  day,  which, 
if  it  had  happened  when  I  was  better  able  to  judge  of 
the  loss  we  suffered,  would  have  vexed  me  much.  This 
was  when  Robert  Hall  and  the  Abbe  Delille  both  dined 
in  Serle  Street.  The  Abbe  repeated  his  verses  all  the 

*  Amongst  others,  Lords  Lansdowne,  Holland,  Brougham,  Cowper, 
King,  and  Selkirk  ;  Messrs.  Person,  Romilly,  Payne  Knight,  Horner, 
Bryan  Edwards,  Sydney  Smith,  Dumont,  Jeffrey,  Smithson  Tennant, 
Whishaw,  Alexander  Baring,  Luttrell,  Blake,  Hallam,  Ricardo,  Hopp- 
ner.  Mr.  Windham  was  to  be  balloted  for  on  the  Saturday  succeeding 
his  lamented  death. 

t  It  passed,  by  a  sudden  dissolution,  into  the  province  of  one  or 
other  of  these  functionaries,  in  the  year  1824. 


1800.]  RIGHT   HON.   SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  139 

time  I  was  present,  and  I  did  not  hear  Mr.  Hall  even 
speak.  M.  put  in  a  few  words  of  approbation,  now  and 
then,  and  our  day  was  marred ;  but  the  Abbe  was  grati- 
fied, and  M.  was  pleased  for  that  reason. 

"  I  heard  M.  at  this  time  deliver  one  of  his  lec- 
tures at  Lincoln's  Inn.  I  did  not  find  the  subject 
dry,  for  he  had  a  great  talent  for  presenting  truths  of 
universal  interest,  and  I  felt  sorry  when  the  lecture 
closed.  What  makes  me  notice  this,  is  the  difference 
that  strikes  me  in  the  superior  ease  and  fluency  of  his 
delivery  then,  to  what  it  was  when  I  heard  him  after- 
wards in  Parliament.  This  might  partly  have  been 
owing  to  the  nature  of  a  lecture  being  different  from  a 
speech,  as  well  as  the  disposition  of  the  minds  of  the 
hearers ;  but  with  allowance  for  these  two  causes,  I 
think  the  great  change  was,  that  the  hope  and  the  con- 
fidence of  M.'s  nature  had  been,  by  the  latter  period, 
roughly  checked. 

"  He  passed  the  autumn  of  the  same  year  with  us  at 
Cresselly.  I  shall  never  forget  that  time  ;  he  delighted 
every  one  who  saw  him,  by  the  readiness  and  pleasant- 
ness of  his  conversation.  His  good  spirits  prevented  the 
constraint  and  awe  that  superior  understandings  so  often 
excite.  His  mornings  were  occupied  in  reading  with 

us  (E and  myself)  French,  being  our  companion 

in  our  rides  and  walks ;  and  I  can  now  feel  over  again 
the  solitude  that  he  left  with  us,  and  the  desolate  look 
of  the  house  the  morning  he  departed  to  return  to 
town." 

On  his  way  to  pay  the  visit  here  alluded  to,  he 
enjoyed,  during  a  couple  of  days,  the  society  of  his 
friend  Mr.  Moore. 

["  August  24th.  —  Mackintosh  came  to  me  yesterday, 
at  Clifton,  where  I  then  was.  We  set  out  together  for 


140  LIFE   OF   THE  [1800. 

Mr.  Green's*  house,  in  Monmouthshire.  We  talked  a 
good  deal  in  the  chaise,  chiefly  on  religious  subjects. 
At  the  end,  the  conversation  turned  upon  myself.  He 
cautioned  me  against  allowing  myself  to  sink  into  that 
languor  and  listlessness,  which  is  generally  the  result  of 
exercising  too  severe  a  scrutiny  into  human  life,  and 
the  value  of  its  pursuits.  This  he  called,  after  a  French 
author  (I  believe  Chamfort)  'la  maladie  des  desaluses! 
He  mentioned  the  example  of  a  friend  of  his,  who,  from 
this  only  cause,  was  completely  miserable,  though  pos- 
sessed of  a  large  fortune.  His  friend  would  say,  he  found 
the  day  twelve  hours  too  long.  We  could  get  no  farther 
than  Usk,  where  we  slept. 

"  25th.  —  We  proceeded  this  morning  to  the  house  of 
Mr.  Green  f  about  nine  o'clock.  We  met  at  dinner 
(which  was  a  very  good  one,  with  plenty  of  champagne) 
Dr.  Parr,  whom  I  had  often  seen  before  with  Mackintosh. 
'  Jemmy '  was  the  way  he  used  always  to  call  him.  I 
have  no  note  of  the  conversation  at  dinner,  only  that 
Parr  talked  very  wild  politics,  which  Mackintosh  listened 
to  with  a  leer  of  assent,  which,  to  those  who  knew  his 
complaisant  manners,  sufficiently  indicated  his  senti- 
ments. M.  set  out  for  Pembrokeshire  about  seven 
o'clock."]  From  thence,  some  weeks  afterwards,  Mr. 
Moore  received  the  following  letter. 

Cressetty,  Pembrokeshire,  27th  September,  1800. 

"Mr  DEAR  MOORE.  The  retirement  of  the  country 
furnishes  no  amusing  subject  of  correspondence,  and  the 
public  affairs  of  the  world  do  not,  at  present,  afford  any 
prospect  very  agreeable.  If,  however,  my  letters  can 

*  The  late  James  Green,  Esq.,  M.  P. 

t  Llansanfrede,  near  Abergavenny,  now  the  residence  of  the  Lord 
Bishop  of  Llandaif. 


1800.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  141 

afford  you  any  amusement,  I  shall  endeavour  to  conquer 
both  my  barren  invention,  and  my  obstinate  laziness.  I 
shall  really  try  to  be  a  better  correspondent  in  future, 
though  I  sincerely  wish  that  you  may  not  try  my  new- 
born virtue  severely,  by  a  very  long  stay  in  Ireland. 
This  wish  is  not  merely  selfish  ;  it  does  not  arise  entirely 
either  from  my  dread  of  being  obliged  to  be  an  indus- 
trious correspondent,  or  from  my  desire  for  the  pleasure 
of  your  society ;  though  I  must  own  that,  on  selfish 
principles,  I  do  very  much  long  for  your  conversation. 
There  is  nobody  to  whom  I  speak  with  such  unreserved 
agreeable  liberty,  because  we  so  much  sympathise  and 
(to  borrow  Parr's  new-coined  word)  syllogise.  To  dispute 
with  people  of  different  opinions  is  well  enough  ;  but  to 
converse  intimately  with  them  is  not  pleasant.  One 
feels  a  constant  restraint,  a  fear  of  shocking  their  opin- 
ions too  strongly,  which  one  may  do  in  the  warmth  of 
debate,  but  which  one  is  anxious  to  avoid  in  continued 
intercourse.  It  is  a  restraint  which  either  turns  conver- 
sation on  insipid,  neutral  subjects,  or  makes  one  insensi- 
bly become  hypocritical  on  those  which  are  important ; 
at  last,  by  constantly  weighing  and  softening  your 
opinions,  you,  by  degrees,  lose  a  considerable  part  of 
your  zeal,  and  perhaps  even  some  degree  of  the  con- 
fidence of  your  conviction.  But  I  assure  you  that  my 
wish  for  your  return  to  England  does  not  solely  arise 
from  the  importance  of  your  society  to  my  personal  en- 
joyment ;  I  have  more  disinterested  reasons.  I  told  you 
very  honestly  my  apprehensions,  that,  if  you  indulged 
your  taste  for  quiet  too  much,  it  might  insensibly  lead 
you  into  the  '  maladie  des  desabuses?  Voltaire  some- 
where says,  '  Le  repos  est  une  bonne  chose,  mais  T ennui 
est  son  fr ere!  This  is  the  only  family,  with  which  I  am 
apprehensive  of  your  forming  an  imprudent  connexion. 
One  great  remedy  is  marriage,  which,  if  it  were  only 


142  LIFE    OF   THE  [1800. 

good  for  stirring  the  mind,  would  by  that  alone  make  up 
for  all  the  noise  of  the  nursery ;  the  other  is  the  exertion 
of  your  powers,  not  to  amuse  the  listlessness  of  solitude, 
but  to  command  the  applause  of  societies  of  men  worthy 
of  exciting  you  to  a  rivalship  of  talents.  Nature  has 
given  you  a  heart  for  domestic  tenderness,  and  a  head 
for  the  conversation  of  men  of  understanding  and  taste. 
Let  neither  of  them  waste  at  Moore  Hall.  Your  fortune 
does  not  require  retirement ;  and  I  will  venture  to  affirm 
that  your  health,  both  of  body  and  mind,  requires  the 
contrary. 

"  I  have  been  charmed  by  the  Abbe"  Delille's  poem ;  * 
and,  in  order  to  promote  the  subscriptions,  I  have  sent  a 
long  critique  to  the  British  Critic,f  which  will  be  inserted 
next  month.  There  are  some  as  fine  passages  in  it,  I 
think,  as  any  in  French  poetry.  The  following  couplet 
pleases  me  much.  It  is  on  the  appearance  of  rocks  and 
mountains,  suggesting  an  idea  of  the  great  antiquity  of 
the  globe,  from  the  length  of  time  necessary  to  their 
formation. 

"  '  Vers  1'antique  chaos  notre  ame  est  repouss^e, 
Et  des  siecles  sans  fin  pesent  sur  la  pensee.' 

| 

The  thought  in  the  last  line  strikes  me  particularly.  It 
is  very  natural,  though,  as  far  as  I  know,  new  in  poetry, 
and  I  think  it  very  happily  expressed.  I  do  not  think  it 
easy  to  convey,  with  more  force,  the  impression  made  on 
the  mind  by  the  contemplation  of  a  dark  and  unmeasur- 
able  antiquity.  There  is  a  sort  of  gloomy  and  oppres- 
sive grandeur  in  the  sentiment,  which  is  unlike  any 
other  human  emotion. 

"  If  you  have  not  got  Currie's  edition  of  Burns,  you 
will  thank  me  for  telling  you  of  it.  The  life  of  the  poor 

*  «  L'Homme  des  Champs."  f  Vol.  XVH.,  p.  9. 


1800.]  RIGHT   HON.   SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  143 

peasant  is  interesting.  His  letters  are  very  extraordi- 
nary. Some  of  his  songs  are  much  more  perfect  than 
his  compositions  published  during  his  life ;  and  there 
are  two  martial  songs,  which  I  cannot  help  numbering 
amongst  the  happiest  productions  of  human  genius.* 
After  you  find  that  I  relish  Burns  and  the  Abbe  Delille, 
I  hope  you  will  acknowledge  that  my  taste  is  compre- 
hensive enough.  No  two  sorts  of  excellence  can  be 
more  unlike  each  other. 

"  If  the  present  negociations  do  not  terminate  in 
peace,  I  dare  say  the  French  will  attempt  invasion,  when 
the  winter  drives  our  fleet  into  port.  As  to  my  own 
feelings,  I  have  no  zeal  for  any  thing,  but  the  destruction 
of  the  French  revolution ;  and  where  I  have  zeal,  I  have 
no  hopes.  I  have  no  zeal  to  spare,  either  for  the  con- 
clusion of  an  ignominious  and  treacherous  peace,  or  for 
the  continuance  of  a  war  without  vigour,  and  without  an 
object.  The  late  retreat  of  our  army,  before  a  handful 
of  your  countrymen,  the  Spaniards,  fills  me  with  shame.f 
Our  generals  seemed  to  have  neither  skill  nor  spirit ;  and 
our  politicians  seem  not  to  understand  a  very  simple 
truth  —  that  the  reputation  of  the  national  arms  is  the 
most  important  part  of  every  enterprise.  On  his  part, 
the  emperor  renews  an  interneciary  war  against  the  most 
terrible  of  enemies,  by  a  proclamation,  full  of  canting 
professions  of  his  humble  desire  for  peace ;  and  he  no 
sooner  arrives  at  his  army,  than  he  animates  them  by 
begging  General  Moreau  to  grant  him  a  respite  for  ten 
days,  to  make  applications  to  the  mercy  of  Buonaparte. 
It  is  vain  to  expect  any  good  from  such  leaders  and  from 
such  a  war.  Such  Syrian  and  Egyptian  kings  are  born 
to  be  the  slaves  of  the  great  robbing  republic,  and  her 

*  Probably  "  Scots  wha  hae  wi'  Wallace  bled,"  and  "  Does  haughty 
Gaul  invasion  threat  ?  " 

t  Alluding  to  Sir  James  Pulteney's  unsuccessful  attack  on  Ferrol. 


144  LIFE    OF   THE  [1800. 

proconsuls.  I  see  a  moth  just  burned  to  death  at  one 
of  my  candles.  Perhaps  some  superior  being  is  looking 
down  with  the  same  feelings  on  those  states,  who  are 
rushing  into  the  embraces  of  death  in  the  hug  of  French 
fraternity.  If  pity  be  any  part  of  his  feelings,  it  is  an 
inactive  pity.  I  know  you  think  the  reign  of  sophistry 
is  destroyed  by  the  generals ;  but  consider  the  example 
of  successful  rapine  and  usurpation,  and  reflect  on  the 
popular  forms  and  names  of  the  French  tyranny,  and  on 
the  irreconcilable  war  to  which  difference  of  manners 
and  institutions  have  condemned  it,  with  all  that  remains 
of  the  ancient  system  of  Europe. 

"  Ever  affectionately  yours, 

"  J.  MACKINTOSH." 

The  reputation  which  his  lectures  conferred,  was  inci- 
dentally of  much  use  to  his  general  professional  advance- 
ment. It  more  particularly  made  his  talents  be  often 
called  for  in  cases,  which  occurred  in  committees  of  the 
House  of  Commons,  regarding  constitutional  law  and 
contested  elections,  and  in  those  before  the  privy  coun- 
cil, arising  out  of  the  confused  relations  of  the  belligerent 
and  neutral  powers  at  that  time. 

One  of  the  most  elaborate  of  the  latter  class  of  argu- 
ments, was  in  the  case  of  the  "  Maria,"  which,  under  the 
convoy  of  a  ship  of  war  of  her  own  country  (Sweden), 
had  resisted  the  search  of  the  British  cruizers.  Being  one 
of  general  principle,  it  afforded  a  subject  well  adapted 
for  the  indulgence  of  the  peculiar  line  of  reasoning  which 
seemed  most  natural  to  his  mind.  Mr.  Pitt  attended  the 
hearing  as  one  of  the  Lord  Commissioners. 

Nor  was  he  less  successful  in  the  more  ordinary  chan- 
nels of  business.  On  the  Norfolk  circuit,  to  which  he  had 
now  become  attached,  he  found  himself,  though  still  but 
a  very  young  member,  in  possession  of  a  considerable 


1801.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  145 

share  of  the  little  business  it  supplies.  One  or  two 
notices  of  trials  in  which  he  was  engaged,  as  given  in  his 
own  unreserved  words  to  his  wife,  will  be  excused. 


«  Thetford,  March  18th,  1801. 

"  You  must  now  allow  me  to  make  a  Pindaric  tran- 
sition from to  my  briefs.  I  believe  I  succeeded 

yesterday  in  a  cause  of  great  expectation.  Almost  the 
whole  county  of  Norfolk  were  assembled  to  hear  it.  The 
parties  were  both  gentlemen  of  considerable  station ;  and 
the  singularity  of  a  clergyman  indicted  for  sending  a 
challenge  to  an  officer  increased  the  interest.  The  cause 
of  the  quarrel  was  scurrilous  language,  used  by  the  officer 
against  my  client's  father.  I  spoke  for  an  hour  and  three 
quarters  with  great  volubility  and  vehemence;  and  I 
introduced,  I  am  afraid,  a  common  place  on  filial  piety. 
There  were  several  parts  of  the  speech,  which  my  own 
taste  did  not  approve ;  but  very  few,  I  think,  which  my 
audience  did  not  more  than  approve.  My  client  made 
the  warmest  acknowledgments,  and  told  me  that  half  the 
court  were  drowned  in  tears.  This,  I  suspect,  was  rather 

rhetorical.  What  is  more  material  is,  that ,  the 

chief  attorney  of  this  great  county,  is  fool  enough  to 
think  me  a  better  speaker  than  Erskine.  I  wish  the  folly 
were  universal.  Another  attorney  came  to  me  in  the 
evening  with  two  briefs  in  the  Criminal  Court,  and  told  me 
of  his  prodigious  admiration.  He  said, i  You  are  quite  a 
new  sort  of  man  among  us.  We  had  very  sound  men, 
but  no  man  of  great  eloquence,  like  you.'  *  *  *  I 
have  had  a  long  walk  with  Wilson,  who  was  counsel 
against  me  yesterday,  and  who  made  a  cold  and  dry,  but 
very  sensible  reply  to  my  declamation.  He  told  me  my 
speech  must  produce  a  great  effect,  as  it  would  certainly 
be  the  principal  topic  of  conversation  in  the  county  for 

VOL.  i.  13 


146  LIFE    OF    THE  [1801. 

some  time ;  that  it  was,  in  his  own  opinion,  such  a  speech 
as  very  few  men  in  the  kingdom  could  have  made ;  and 
that  my  success  was  now  absolutely  certain. — This,  from 
so 'guarded  a  man,  is  a  great  deal." 

Another  of  these  alludes  to  a  cause,  which  may  be 
mentioned,  involving,  as  it  did,  circumstances  of  a  very 
deep  interest.  This  was  in  the  case,  tried  at  the  Bury  sum- 
mer assizes  of  the  year  1802,  of  the  Rev.  Morgan  James 
against  the  Rev.  William  Finley,  for  libel.  The  plaintiff 
and  defendant  were  the  curate  and  incumbent  of  the 
parish  of  St.  Peters  and  St.  Gregory,  Sudbury.  Mr. 
Mackintosh  was  concerned  for  the  defendant,  who  had 
written  letters,  and,  as  the  result  showed,  properly,  cau- 
tioning different  parties  against  the  plaintiff,  as  a  man 
of  notorious  profligacy.  The  trial  derived  its  peculiar 
interest  from  the  presence  in  court  of  a  young  lady  who, 
notwithstanding  the  opprobrium  under  which  he  laboured, 
was  desirous  of  fulfilling  a  contract  of  marriage  with  the 
plaintiff.  The  part  of  Mr.  Mackintosh's  speech,  in  which 
he  expatiated  upon  the  degradation  of  moral  character 
and  of  modesty  effected  by  his  alleged  artifices,  as  evi- 
denced in  her  consenting  to  be  present,  is  reported  to 
have  been  very  pathetic.  Though  it  has  shared  the 
common  fate  of  efforts  of  forensic  eloquence,  in  being 
unrecorded,  it  is  still  fresh  in  the  recollection  of  Mr. 

Montagu. 

"  Bury. 

"  I  was  in  court  till  four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  engaged 
in  the  cause  of  the  Sudbury  parson,  which  turned  out  the 
most  interesting  that  I  ever  witnessed  in  a  court  of  justice. 
I  spoke  from  two  till  three  for  the  defendant ;  and,  I 
believe,  I  may  venture  to  say,  with  more  effect  and 
applause,  than  I  have  done  on  any  other  occasion.  Mon- 
tagu, who  was  with  me  in  the  cause,  says  it  was  one  of 
the  finest  speeches  he  ever  heard ;  and  even  the  cautious 


1801.]  BIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  147 

accuracy  of  Wilson  did  not  prevent  him  from  saying,  that 
it  was  '  most  powerful  and  eloquent.'  So  you  see, 

" '  Congreve  loved,  and  Swift  endured  my  lays.' 

Pepper  Arden,*  who  tried  the  cause,  paid  me  the  highest 
compliments.  I  hear  from  all  quarters,  this  morning, 
that  it  is  the  general  opinion  there  never  was  such  a 
speech  spoken  in  Bury.  What  crowned  the  business 
was  success.  The  cause  was  so  very  interesting,  that,  if  I 
had  either  nerves  or  time,  I  should  write  you  an  account 
of  it,"  &c.  &c. 

The  occasion  of  the  assizes  afforded  an  opportunity  of 
which  he  gladly  availed  himself,  of  joining  a  small  circle 
of  literary  friends  in  the  city  of  Norwich,  consisting  of 
Dr.  Sayers,  who  had  been  an  old  Edinburgh  acquaint- 
ance, Mr.  William  Taylor,  the  author  of  the  "Survey 
of  German  Poetry,"  Mrs.  Opie,  Mrs.  John  Taylor,  and 
some  others.  The  meetings  too,  which  the  intermissions 
of  business  allowed,  with  his  more  intimate  friends,  who 
travelled  the  same  circuit,  were  always  looked  forward 
to  with  pleasure.  Amongst  the  chief  of  these  was  Mr. 
George  Wilson,  one  whose  esteem  and  regard  he  always 
thought  amongst  the  most  honourable  acquisitions  of  his 
life ;  and  Mr.  Basil  Montagu,  who  was  his  companion  in 
occasional  extra-professional  excursions,  such  as  the  fol- 
lowing "pilgrimages  to  the  shrine"  of  Cowper,  whose 
country  the  Norfolk  circuit  may  be  said  to  be ;  which 
contains  Huntingdon,  Weston,  and  Olney — where  he 
passed  the  greater  part  of  his  dreary  existence — and 
Dereham,  where  he  died. 

"Bedford,  July  16,  1801. 

"  We  stopped  at  the  village  —  Weston,  where  he 
(Cowper)  lived  twenty  years.  We  went  into  the  room 

*  Lord  Alvanley. 


148  LIFE    OF   THE  [1801. 

where  the  i  Task '  was  written,  which  is  now  a  village 
school.  We  rambled  round  the  village,  and  at  last 
found  out  the  hair-dresser,  whom  he  had  employed  for 
many  years,  who  told  us  some  most  affecting  anecdotes 
of  the  most  amiable  and  unhappy  of  men.  We  saw  his 
handwriting  in  a  copy  of  his  poems,  which  he  presented 
to  this  hair-dresser.  I  hope  you  will  believe  me,  when 
I  say  I  could  not  look  at  the  writing  without  tears.  So 
pure  in  his  life ! — so  meek ! — so  tender ! — so  pious !  — 
he  surely  never  had  his  rival  in  virtue  and  misfortune. 
He  had  few  superiors  in  genius.  I  think  better  of 
myself  for  having  felt  so  much  in  such  a  scene,  and  I 
hope  I  shall  be  the  better  all  my  life  for  the  feeling." 

And  again,  writing  from  Cromer,  he  says,  "  Montagu 
and  I,  wishing  not  to  waste  two  days,  went  last  night  to 
Dereham,  where  poor  Cowper  passed  the  last  five  years  of 
his  life,  and  where  his  remains  lie.  We  introduced  our- 
selves to  Mr.  Johnson,  a  young  clergyman,  a  relation  of 
the  poet's,  with  whom  he  lived,  and  who  seems  to  have 
showed  him  a  degree  of  tenderness  very  uncommon. 
We  were  well  received  by  him,  and  breakfasted  with  him 
this  morning.  He  showed  us  Cowper's  bed-room,  in 
which  he  breathed  his  last,  his  study,  and,  last  of  all — 
the  grave,  where, 

1  Beneath  a  rude  and  nameless  stone,' 

this  great  poet  lies.  We  saw  a  great  many  of  his  books 
and  manuscripts,  and  we  were  particularly  interested  by 
many  anecdotes  of  his  blameless  and  miserable  life,  all 
which  you  shall  hear  when  we  meet.  Upon  the  whole 
the  morning  was  interesting ;  it  not  only  amused  from 
its  dissimilarity  to  the  stupid  routine  of  ordinary  life, 
but  it  has,  I  hope,  made  some  impressions  likely  to 
soften  and  improve  the  heart.  None  but  fools  and 
fanatics  can  expect  such  scenes  are  of  themselves  suf- 


1801.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  149 

ficient  to  work  a  change  in  the  character,  but  it  is  one 
of  the  superstitions  of  shrewdness  and  worldliness  to  deny 
that  such  impressions  may  contribute  something  towards 
virtue.  However  this  may  be,  I  rejoice  that  my  heart 
is  not  yet  so  old  and  hard,  as  to  have  all  its  romance 
dried  up." 

The  following  letter,  with  which  the  Editor  has  been 
favoured  by  Mr.  Montagu,  contains  that  gentleman's 
pleasurable  recollections  of  these  visits,  as  well  as  other 
passages  of  much  value,  in  illustrating  the  warmth  and 
sweetness  of  his  early  friend's  feelings: — 

"  MY  DEAR  MACKINTOSH, — It  is  not  possible  for  me  to 
do  any  justice  to  my  grateful  recollection  of  your  father, 
without  saying  a  few,  and  (aware  of  Hume's  admonition) 
only  a  few  words  about  myself. 

"  Cradled  in  aristocracy,  yet  devoted,  from  my  child- 
hood, to  the  acquisition  of  knowledge,  I  went  to  Cam- 
bridge with  a  total  indifference  to  University  distinction, 
and  a  sort  of  contempt  for  the  intellectual  gladiatorship, 
by  which  its  honours  could  alone  be  attained.  I  lived 
much  in  the  libraries,  amidst  the  works  of  the  '  mighty 
dead,'  with  whom  I  was  more  familiar  than  with  the 
mighty  living.  In  this  romance  I  passed  my  time  till  the 
beginning  of  the  year  1795,  when  I  went  to  the  great 
city,  supposing,  of  course,  that  it  was  paved  with  emeralds, 
that  the  learning  and  silver-elocution  of  which  I  was 
enamoured,  was  to  be  found  in  every  assembly  in  London. 
At  this  time  the  wild  opinions  which  prevailed  at  the 
commencement  of  the  French  revolution  misled  most  of 
us,  who  were  not  as  wise  as  your  father,  and  he  did  not 
wholly  escape  their  fascinating  influence.  The  prevalent 
doctrines  were,  that  man  was  so  benevolent  as  to  wish 
only  the  happiness  of  his  fellow-creatures;  so  intellectual, 
as  to  be  able  readily  to  discover  what  was  best,  and  so 

13* 


150  LIFE    OF   THE  [1801. 

far  above  the  power  of  temptation,  as  never  to  be  drawn 
by  any  allurement  from  the  paths  of  virtue.  Gratitude 
was  said  to  be  a  vice — marriage  an  improper  restraint — 
law  an  imposition — and  lawyers  aiders  of  the  fraud.  It 
is  scarcely  possible  to  conceive  the  extensive  influence 
which  these  visions  had  upon  society.  I  well  remember 
having  been  introduced  to  Mr.  Sheridan,  as  a  gentleman, 
who  was  taught  by  a  modern  publication  that '  gratitude 
was  a  vice.'  '  I  always  thought,'  said  Sheridan, '  that 
reading  was  a  vice,  and  I  am  now  convinced  of  it.'  I 
had  till  this  period  studied  law  with  great  intensity,  but 
these  doctrines  paralysed  me ;  I  closed  my  books,  and 
almost  relinquished  my  professional  pursuits,  appropriat- 
ing only  a  small  portion  of  each  day  to  law.  I  resolved 
to  seek  the  society  of  all  persons,  who  could  explain  to 
me  these  opinions,  confirm  me  in  them,  if  right,  or  expose 
their  errors,  if  wrong.  I  fortunately  learnt  that  Mr. 
Mackintosh  had  meditated  deeply  upon  these  subjects ; 
that  he  was  very  communicative,  and  that  he  had  great 
pleasure  in  assisting  young  men  who  were  desirous  of 
improvement.  It  was  an  easy  and  delightful  task  to  him, 
as  I  afterwards  found  out,  to  t  serve,'  in  his  own  words, 
'  a  young  man  who  was  servable.' 

"  The  first  time  I  ever  saw  your  father,  was  when  he 
was  counsel,  upon  a  trial  at  the  Old  Bailey,  for  a  pri- 
soner, who  was  tried  for  high  treason,  in  having 
attempted  to  shoot  the  king  at  the  theatre.  When  the 
trial  was  over,  I  ventured  to  introduce  myself,  but  there 
was  a  coldness  in  his  manner,  which  I  then  misunderstood. 
It  repelled  me,  and  I  did  not  persevere.  I  afterwards 
fortunately  learnt  that  he  was  to  be  at  the  house  *  of  Mr. 
John  Wedgwood,  with  whom  I  was  well  acquainted.  I 
met  him  there,  and  I  spoke  of  my  favourite  philosophy 

*  Cote  House,  near  Bristol. 


1801.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  151 

without  any  reserve.  He  opposed  me  with  great  acute- 
ness  and  vigour,  and  a  parental  feeling  for  a  young  man 
likely,  at  his  entrance  into  life,  to  be  so  misled ;  he 
attacked  the  principles  without  measure  and  without 
mercy,  but  with  a  delicacy  to  me,  which  endeared  the 
reproof,  and  a  wisdom  which  ended  in  a  total  decompo- 
sition of  my  errors ;  when  he  had  so  far  succeeded  as  to 
be  conscious  of  the  delight  which  I  experienced  from  his 
lessons,  I  well  remember  that  he  frequently,  in  playful- 
ness, used  to  say, i  Shall  we  bait  the  philosopher  this  evening, 
or  shall  we  amuse  ourselves  with  less  agreeable  occupa- 
tion ? '  I  remained  a  week  or  two  under  the  roof  of 
this  virtuous  family,  many  of  whom  are  now  alive,  and 
will,  I  dare  say,  recollect  the  wholesome  chastisement 
which  I  received.  To  this  interview,  and  his  parental 
conduct,  I  ascribe  many  of  the  blessings  of  my  life.  I 
have  always  gratefully  acknowledged  this  kindness,  and 
it  is  a  satisfaction  to  me  to  feel  that  to  the  moment  of  his 
death,  and  beyond  it  (for  the  grave  has  no  victory  over 
our  best  sympathies),  I  looked  up  to  him  as  a  son  loves 
to  respect  his  parent.  The  time  arrived  when  I  was  to 
return  to  London.  Your  father  was  ill  —  he  desired  to 
see  me.  I  sat  down  by  his  bed-side — he  took  me  by  the 
hand  and  said, i  My  dear  Montagu,  you  are  a  young  man 
just  entering  into  life  ;  let  me  advise  you  not  to  act  till 
you  have  gained  information  from  the  works  which 
abound  with  disquisitions  upon  the  opinions  by  which, 
forgive  me  for  saying,  you  have  been  misled ;  let  me 
advise  you  to  look  into  Hooker,  Bishop  Taylor,  and  Lord 
Bacon,  but  do  not  rely  upon  reading  only; — make  your 
own  impartial  and  careful  observations  upon  men  as  they 
exist,  not  in  your  imagination,  but  in  reality.  You  will 
act  with  greater  vigour,  if,  from  the  result  of  your  inqui- 
ries, you  find  you  are  right ;  if  you  are  in  error  you  will 
discover  it.'  He  pressed  my  hand  earnestly,  and  said, 
( Remember/  and  '  God  bless  you.'  I  cannot,  at  this 


152  LIFE   OF   THE  [1801. 

distant  period,  recollect  his  kindness  but  with  great 
emotion. 

"  It  was  not  thrown  away.  Upon  the  morning  after 
my  arrival  in  London,  at  day-break,  I  opened  the  '  Ad- 
vancement of  Learning,'  and  never  rose  till  seven  in  the 
evening,  when  I  had  finished  it.  I  saw  in  a  moment 
that  if  Bacon  and  Mackintosh  were  right,  I  was  wrong. 
The  modern  philosophers  say  man  is  benevolent  and 
wise ;  each  labouring  to  promote  the  happiness  of  the 
other.  How  different  is  this  from  the  doctrine  of  Bacon, 
teeming,  as  it  does  in  every  line,  with  benevolence. 
Again  and  again  did  I  read  and  ruminate  upon  this 
splendid  passage, — ( In  Orpheus's  theatre  all  beasts  and 
birds  assembled,  and  forgetting  their  several  appetites, 
some  of  prey,  some  of  game,  some  of  quarrel,  stood  all 
sociably  together,  listening  to  the  airs  and  accords  of  the 
harp,  the  sound  whereof  no  sooner  ceased,  or  was  drowned 
by  some  louder  noise,  but  every  beast  returned  to  his  own 
nature  ;  wherein  is  aptly  described  the  nature  and  con- 
dition of  men,  who  are  full  of  savage  and  unreclaimed 
desires  of  profit  —  of  lust  —  of  revenge  ;  which,  as  long 
as  they  give  ear  to  precepts,  to  laws,  to  religion,  sweetly 
touched  with  eloquence,  and  persuasion  of  books,  of 
sermons,  of  harangues,  so  long  is  society  and  peace  main- 
tained ;  but  if  these  instruments  be  silent,  or  sedition 
and  tumult  make  them  not  audible,  all  things  dissolve 
into  anarchy  and  confusion.' 

"  About  this  period  an  event  occurred  which,  following 
and  illustrating  the  instructions  of  your  father,  at  once 
opened  my  eyes.  A  friend  of  mine,  Mr.  Felix  Vaughan, 
a  barrister,  requested  me  to  obtain  an  interview  with  a 
prisoner,  who  was  to  be  tried  next  day,  and  would  pro- 
bably be  convicted  of  a  capital  offence,  of  which  he  had 
good  reason  to  think  he  was  innocent.  I  immediately 
proceeded  to  Newgate.  It  was  after  dusk  in  the  even- 
ing. The  door-keeper  refused  to  admit  me.  I  persisted 


1801.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR    JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  153 

and  obtained  admission.  I  was  left  with  the  felons,  who 
instantly  surrounded  me,  and  importuned  me  for  money. 
'  I  came  for  a  few  moments'  conversation/  I  said,  '  with 
your  fellow-prisoner,  who  will  be  tried  to-morrow,  and 
whose  life  depends  upon  my  knowing  one  fact,  which  he 
alone  can  communicate.'  'Damn  you,  you  scoundrel,  you 
will  be  hanged  yourself  in  a  week,'  was  the  answer  I 
received.  Desirous  to  insure  some  protection,  I  addressed 
one  of  the  prisoners,  who  appeared  less  ferocious  than  his 
companions,  and  in  the  mildest  tone  I  asked  him,  '  Why 
he  was  confined  ? '  Putting  his  hands  to  his  sides,  with  a 
malignant  smile,  he  replied, '  I  am  here  for  murder.'  I 
began  to  be  very  sceptical  upon  the  soundness  of  the 
modern  philosophy. 

u  In  the  University  Library  at  Cambridge,  I  soon 
after  this  discovered,  in  Bishop  Taylor's  Essay  on 
Friendship,  the  beautiful  and  luminous  exposition  of 
the  whole  of  these  errors.  I  immediately  communicated 
my  discovery  to  your  father.  He  had,  I  rather  think, 
never  before  seen  the  Essay.  In  after  life  we  again 
and  again  conversed  upon  it.  The  modern  philoso- 
phy, I  need  not  add,  I  had,  hi  the  mean  tune,  finally 
renounced. 

"  I  have  always  thought  —  but  how  far  I  was  right  in 
this  surmise  I  know  not  —  that  the  consciousness  of  the 
good,  which  had  resulted  from  the  '  lectures '  to  me,  was 
the  cause,  the  seed,  of  the  valuable  lectures  to  the  public, 
delivered  afterwards  by  him  in  Lincoln's  Inn  Hall.  The 
obligation  of  society  for  his  anxiety  to  oppose  the  erro- 
neous opinions,  which  then  prevailed,  never  will  be  for- 
gotten. He  invited  me  to  attend  them ;  and  I  can 
remember  at  this  moment  the  delight  which  they  gave 
to  all  his  many  pupils. 

"  From  that  time  I  attached  myself  as  a  son  to  your 
father ;  he  admitted  me  to  his  intimacy,  and  enjoyed,  I 


154  LIFE    OF   THE  [1801. 

suspect,  parental  pleasure,  in  seeing  that  he  had  reclaimed 
from  error  a  child,  I  had  almost  said,  a  favourite  child. 

"  Having  observed  that  on  the  Norfolk  circuit  there 
was  a  dearth  of  leading  counsel,  I  intimated  to  your 
father,  that  if  he  would  quit  the  home  circuit,  where, 
although  he  might  be  counted  in  the  day  of  battle,  it 
might  be  many  years  before  he  shared  in  the  division  of 
the  spoil,  he  could  instantly  command  the  small  por- 
tion of  business  on  the  Norfolk  circuit ;  he  followed  my 
advice.  Never  was  any  thing  more  fortunate,  both  for 
profit  to  him  and  pleasure  to  me.  We  commonly  travelled 
together.  What  information  did  he  communicate  !  what 
instruction  did  he  give !  what  happy,  happy  hours  did  I 
pass  for  a  fortnight,  with  my  dear  fellow-traveller,  twice 
every  year !  I  saw  him,  as  in  travelling,  we  do  see  each 
other,  in  all  moods.  How  delightful  was  he  in  each 
and  in  all !  With  what  sweet  recollections  do  I  think 
of  his  cheerfulness,  and  how  gratefully  remember  his 
instruction ! 

"  In  our  first  journey  a  circumstance  occurred,  which 
was  at  the  time  a  source  of  some  annoyance  to  your 
father,  but  of  great  joy  to  me.  When  we  changed  horses 
at  Edgeware,  on  our  way  to  Buckingham,  the  first  assize 
town,  we  did  not  observe  that  the  postillion  had  mistaken 
the  road,  and  driven  us  to  St.  Albans.  c  Why  this,'  I 
exclaimed,  '  is  the  place  where  Lord  Bacon  is  buried ! 
To  his  grave  I  must  go  ;' — and,  notwithstanding  your 
father's  remonstrances,  to  his  tomb  I  went,  which  I 
reluctantly  quitted,  regardless  of  the  admonition, '  that 
we  should  lose  all  the  briefs.'  At  Buckingham,  how- 
ever, we  in  due  time  arrived,  where  my  briefs  (for  I  had 
been  some  time  on  the  circuit)  were  ready  for  me. 
Your  father  was  at  this  time,  and  only  at  this  time,  a 
looker-on. 

"  Having  attended  diligently  at  the  Old  Bailey,  I  was 


1801.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  155 

generally  employed  at  Buckingham  as  counsel  in  criminal 
cases ;  and  I  happened  once  to  be  retained  there  against 
a  prisoner,  who  was  convicted  and  executed  for  horse- 
stealing. 

"  We  rose  early,  I  remember,  in  our  journey  to  Bed- 
ford, the  next  assize  town,  that  we  might  visit  Olney, 
the  village  where  Cowper  had  passed  so  many  of  his  sad 
years.  Our  conversation  naturally  turned  upon  the  fate 
of  the  prisoner,  who  had  been  left  for  execution.  My 
opinions  upon  the  punishment  of  death  were  very  unset- 
tled ;  how  humanely  did  your  father  explain  to  me  the 
whole  doctrine  of  punishment !  '  Observe,'  he  said, '  the 
different  objects  of  horror  in  different  countries,  and, 
indeed,  amongst  different  persons  in  the  same  country. 
The  Mahometans  recoil  from  alcohol ;  the  Jew  from 
swine's  flesh ;  the  women  prefer  death,  as  you  may  see 
beautifully  stated  in  the  noble  conduct  of  the  mother,  in 
the  Book  of  Maccabees,  to  submission  to  the  supposed 
abomination ;  so,  too,  the  Hindoo  widow  recoils  from 
the  thought  of  not  burning  herself  to  death  with  the 
dead  body  of  her  husband.  How  is  this  horror  gene- 
rated ?  is  the  question  for  consideration  of  the  philo- 
sophic legislator :  and  the  answer  is  easy — it  is  generated 
by  the  union  of  law,  of  morals,  and  of  religion.  When 
they  unite,  they  are  omnipotent.  The  course  of  nature 
may  be  stopped,  and  we  may  recoil  from  our  most  ex- 
quisite enjoyments.  When  these  forces  oppose  each 
other,  their  power  is  proportionately  diminished.  Law, 
morals,  and  religion,  may  unite  in  shedding  the  blood  of 
him,  by  whose  hand  blood  hath  been  shed ;  but  for  horse- 
stealing,  for  which  yon  prisoner  is  to  be  executed,  and 
for  many  other  crimes  without  violence,  it  is  easy  to 
foresee  that  the  punishment  must  and  will  be  mitigated. 
Knowledge  (and  humanity,  ever  in  its  train)  is  advanc- 
ing ;  and  the  mild  doctrine,  which  desires  not  the  death 


156  LIFE   OF   THE  [1801. 

of  a  sinner,  but  rather  that  he  should  turn  from  his 
wickedness  and  live,  will  at  last  be  heard.'  This  piece  of 
gold  I  worked  into  various  forms,  to  circulate  it  through 
society ;  I  published  it  again  and  again ;  I  heard  from 
him  on  the  subject  afterwards  when  he  was  in  India  :  I 
published  his  address  to  the  grand  jury  at  Bombay,  and 
I  witnessed  with  delight  his  exertions  in  parliament 
upon  his  return. 

"  His  instruction  had  not  ended,  when  we  found  our- 
selves upon  the  long  bridge  *  over  the  Ouse,  at  Olney. 
The  most  communicative  person  in  a  country  town  is 
generally  the  barber ;  and  I  fortunately  discovered  the 
man  who  had  attended  Cowper  for  twenty  years.  He 
spoke  of  him  with  rapture.  He  took  us  to  the  house, 
where  he  had  lived.  We  saw  his  room.  We  stood  at  the 
window,  from  which  he  watched  the  post-boy  bringing  his 
letters — the  slight  link  which  connected  him  with  a  busy 
world — saw  the  room  in  which  he  had  sheltered  his  tame 
hares,  and  walked  across  the  field  to  the  summer-house, 
Cowper's  favourite  retreat.  We  listened  to  our  commu- 
nicative guide,  describing  the  poet  in  his  large  hat,  walk- 
ing in  his  garden,  and  seldom  beyond  it. 

"  He  related  many  anecdotes,  with  one  of  which  (I 
know  not  whether  it  is  published)  we  were  much  affected. 
Poor  Cowper  was  deluded  by  the  imagination  that  he 
was  a  wicked  sinner,  and  that  it  was  his  duty,  by  severe 
penance,  to  atone  for  his  guilt.  In  one  of  these  delusions 
he  had  sat  six  days  as  still  and  silent  as  death.  Nothing 
could  excite  him  ;  his  only  food  was  a  small  piece  of 
bread  dipped  in  wine  and  water :  the  loss  of  his  facul- 
ties seemed  inevitable.  The  medical  attendant  suggested 
that  there  was  one  hope,  one  motive  by  which  he  might 

*  "  That  with  its  wearisome,  but  needful  length, 
Bestrides  the  wintry  flood." 


1801.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  157 

possibly  be  called  into  existence,  '  Could  Mrs.  Unwin 
(who  had  lost  the  use  of  one  side  by  paralysis)  be  induced 
to  say,  that  it  would  be  agreeable  to  her  to  walk  ?'  'It 
is  a  fine  morning/  Mrs.  Unwin  said ;  '  I  should  like  to 
attempt  to  walk.'  Cowper  rose  instantly,  took  her  by 
the  arm,  and  the  reverie  was  dissipated.  I  could  relate 
many  more  anecdotes,  but  time  is  on  the  wing. 

"  After  breakfast  we  proceeded  to  the  village  of  Wes- 
ton,  where  Cowper  had  once  lived,  and  to  many  of  his 
favourite  walks,  where,  by  the  assistance  of  our  friendly 
guide,  and  the  poet's  description  in  the  Task,  we  easily 
traced  the  rustic  bridge,  the  peasant's  nest,  and,  never- 
to-be-forgotten,  his  favourite  elm  trees.  We  wandered 
so  long,  that  we  were  in  danger  of  experiencing  the  same 
loss  to  which  your  father  imagined,  by  my  admiration 
of  Lord  Bacon,  he  had  been  exposed  at  Buckingham. 
However,  to  Bedford  we  reluctantly  proceeded.  With 
Cowper's  sad  fate  your  father  was  deeply  impressed :  his 
conversation  turned  upon  the  temperament  of  genius, 
'  soft  as  the  air  to  receive  impressions,'  and  its  liability 
to  derangement :  a  subject  which,  from  his  medical  and 
metaphysical  knowledge,  he  was  of  all  men  the  most 
competent  to  explain.  I  think  he  told  me  that  he  had 
once  intended  to  write  a  treatise  on  insanity.*  I,  at 
that  time,  had  a  sort  of  morbid  wish  to  seclude  myself 
from  public  life.  '  Never  indulge  it,'  earnestly  exclaimed 
your  father, '  it  is  the  most  fatal  of  all  delusions ;  the 
sad  delusion  by  which  Cowper  was  wrecked.  Our  hap- 
piness depends  not  upon  torpor,  not  upon  sentimentality, 
but  upon  the  due  exercise  of  our  various  faculties :  it  is 
not  acquired  by  sighing  for  wretchedness  and  shunning 
the  wretched,  but  by  vigorously  discharging  our  duty  to 
society.  Remember  what  Bacon  says,  with  whom  you 

*  Suggested  by  the  late  occasion  of  the  king's  illness. 
VOL.  I.  14 


158  LIFE    OF   THE  [1801. 

seem  as  much  delighted  as  I  am,  that, "  in  this  theatre  of 
man's  life,  God  and  angels  only  should  be  lookers-on." 
Let  me  implore  you  never  to  yield  to  this  longing  for 
seclusion.  This  sensibility,'  he  added, f  if  rightly  directed, 
leads  to  what  is  great  and  good ;  wrongly  directed,  to 
vice  and  crime ;  but,  if  indulged  in  mewling  puling 
sentimentality,  it  is  to  me  most  loathsome/  I  never  can 
forget  the  earnestness  with  which  he  spoke.  '  If  Cowper,' 
he  said,  'had  attended  to  Bacon's  admonition,  that 
"  torpid  minds  cannot  engage  too  soon  in  active  life, 
but  that  sensibility  should  stand  back  until  it  has  passed 
the  meridian  of  its  years,"  instead  of  having  been  one 
of  the  most  wretched,  he  might  have  been  one  of  the 
happiest  of  men.' — His  conversation  had  not  ended  when 
we  reached  Bedford. — As  we  once  entered  Huntingdon, 
'  this  is  the  town,'  said  he, ( where  Cowper  unfortunately 
met  the  Unwins.' 

"  In  the  way  from  Bedford  to  Huntingdon,  we  were 
accustomed  to  dine  with  our  friend,  Dr.  Maltby,  the 
present  Bishop  of  Chichester,  '  whose  happiness,'  your 
father  said,  i  depended  wholly  upon  the  faithful  and 
virtuous  discharge  of  his  duties.' 

"  On  one  of  the  circuits — I  think  it  was  in  1800 — we 
happened  to  be  at  Cambridge  on  the  very  day*  appointed 
for  a  fast,  on  the  cessation  of  hostilities  with  France,  and 
we  fortunately  went  to  St.  Mary's,  the  University  Church, 
where  we  heard  Dr.  Ramsden  preach  a  sermon  (since 
published)  abounding  with  deep  thought  and  the  most 
splendid  imagination.  It  began — 

"  <  The  calamity  of  war  has  been  often,  and  with  good  rea- 
son, deplored.  It  is  a  great  calamity ;  a  calamity  made  for 
tears  and  wringing  of  hands.  It  is  justly  classed  with  the  other 

*  Wednesday,  March  12,  1800. 


1801.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR    JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  159 

two  scourges  of  the  earth — famine  and  pestilence.  Sometimes 
of  the  three,  one  comes  alone  —  and  it  is  enough,  when  sepa- 
rate, for  woe — but  the  two  are  sometimes  to  be  seen  riding 
together  in  war's  chariot.  We  have  it  upon  judgment's  record, 
that  before  a  marching  army  a  land  has  been  as  the  garden  of 
Eden — behind  it,  a  desolate  wilderness.* 

"  '  Yet,  in  our  laments  for  such  a  calamity,  as  in  other  cases, 
where  our  tears  do,  or  are  ready  to  fall,  it  will  be  necessary, 
after  yielding  for  awhile  to  the  heart's  movement,  to  call  our 
reason  to  our  aid,  to  save  the  honour  of  our  reason.  We  then 
suffer  no  disparagement  or  loss  ;  our  pity  shall  then  not  be  our 
weakness ;  it  shall  have  its  purgation  by  this  tragic  scene. 
True  pity  is  ever,  after  its  exercise,  grave  and  thoughtful ;  it 
braces  the  mind,  not  to  complaint,  but  to  acquiescence;  it 
ever  leads  to  sober,  humble  meditation. 

"  '  That  pity,  which  terminates  in  querulous  invective,  is  but 
hypocrisy's  pity.  In  this  instance,  if  we  sigh  over  war's  mise- 
ries, let  our  compassion  be  the  true — let  it  lead  us  to  serious 
reflection  on  the  ways  of  Providence,  who  has  appointed  no 
umpire  in  nation's  quarrels  but  the  sword ;  no  decision  of  the 
wrong  but  the  battles.' 

"After  describing  the  nature  and  evils  of  war,  he 
said — 

"  '  A  truce  between  nations  will  not  be  thought  a  cessation 
from  hostility.  It  is  as  the  breathing  of  the  lion  and  tiger  after 
weariness  in  fight.  They  still  lie  facing  each  other.  Though 
the  tumult  be  hushed,  yet  the  menace  and  the  song  of  war  are 
still  heard.  Even  the  parley  of  words  on  these  occasions  is 
exceeding  fierce.  Have  they  ceased  from  hostility,  whose  spears 
meet  in  the  midst,  though,  for  weariness,  they  do  not  strike  ? ' 
*  *  *  * 

"  He  thus  proceeded  :  — 

" '  We  will  venture  to  say,  how,  in  the  mercy  of  God  to 
man,  this  heart  comes  to  a  nation,  and  how  its  exercise  or 
affection  appears. 

*Joel  ii.  3. 


LIFE   OF   THE  [1801. 

" '  It  comes  by  priests,  by  lawgivers,  by  philosophers,  by 
schools,  by  education,  by  the  nurse's  care,  the  mother's  anxiety, 
the  father's  severe  brow.  It  comes  by  letters,  by  science,  by 
every  art,  by  sculpture,  painting,  and  poetry  ;  by  the  song  on 
war,  on  peace,  on  domestic  virtue,  on  a  beloved  and  magnani- 
mous king;  by  the  Iliad,  by  the  Odyssey,  by  tragedy,  by 
comedy.  It  comes  by  sympathy,  by  love,  by  the  marriage 
union,  by  friendship,  generosity,  meekness,  temperance ;  by 
every  virtue  and  example  of  virtue.  It  comes  by  sentiments  of 
chivalry,  by  romance,  by  music,  by  decorations,  and  magnifi- 
cence of  buildings ;  by  the  culture  of  the  body,  by  comfortable 
clothing,  by  fashions  in  dress,  by  luxury  and  commerce.  It 
comes  by  the  severity,  the  melancholy,  and  benignity  of  the 
countenance ;  by  rules  of  politeness,  ceremonies,  formalities, 
solemnities.  It  comes  by  the  rites  attendant  on  law  and  religion  ; 
by  the  oath  of  office,  by  the  venerable  assembly,  by  the  judge's 
procession  and  trumpet,  by  the  disgrace  and  punishment  of 
crimes,  by  public  prayer,  public  fasts ;  by  meditation,  by  the 
Bible,  by  the  consecration  of  churches,  by  the  sacred  festival, 
by  the  cathedral's  gloom  and  choir ;  by  catechising,  by  con- 
firmation, by  the  burial  of  the  dead,  by  the  observance  of  the 
Sabbath,  by  the  sacraments,  by  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel,  by 
faith  in  the  atonement  of  the  Cross,  by  the  patience  and  mar- 
tyrdom of  the  Saints,  by  the  sanctifying  influences  of  the  Holy 

Ghost.' 

*  *  *  * 

"'It  is  worthy  of  Bishop  Taylor/  whispers  your 
father.  He  concluded  thus  : — 

"  '  Whence  the  heart  of  a  nation  comes,  we  have,  perhaps, 
sufficiently  explained :  and  it  must  appear  to  what  most  awful 
obligations  and  duty  are  held  those,  from  whom  this  heart 
takes  its  texture  and  shape;  —  our  king,  our  princes,  our 
nobles  —  all  who  wear  the  badge  of  office  or  honour ;  all 
priests,  judges,  senators,  pleaders,  interpreters  of  law;  all 
instructors  of  youth,  all  seminaries  of  education,  all  parents, 
all  learned  men,  all  professors  of  science  and  art,  all  teachers 
of  manners.  Upon  them  depend  the  fashions  of  a  nation's 
heart ;  by  them  it  is  to  be  chastised,  refined,  and  purified ;  by 
them  is  the  state  to  lose  the  character,  and  title  of  the  beast  of 


1801.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  161 

prey ;  by  them  are  the  iron  scales  to  fall  off,  and  a  skin  of 
youth,  beauty,  freshness,  and  polish  to  come  upon  it ;  by 
them  it  is  to  be  made  so  tame  and  gentle,  as  that  a  child 
may  lead  it.' 

"This  eloquent  discourse  made  a  great  and  deep 
impression  upon  your  father,  although  a  little  inter- 
rupted by  the  effect  upon  the  minds  of  the  different 
hearers. 


'  Some  deemed  him  wondrous  wise, 
And  some  believed  him  mad.' 


"  Your  father  was  much  amused  by  the  astonishment 
of  a  deaf  Unitarian  printer,  who  with  his  trumpet  to  his 
ear,  occasionally  caught  a  word  or  two ;  ( and  the  judge 
himself/  your  father  said, '  will  not  be  much  pleased  by 
being  thus  mentioned  with  the  symbol  of  his  office.' 
'  The  judge  and  his  trumpet/  was  a  sort  of  watch-word 
with  us  during  my  many  future  happy  journeys. 

"  The  next  assize-town  is  Bury,  where,  either  at  this 
or  a  subsequent  circuit,  your  father  was  retained  with 
me,  as  junior  counsel,  on  behalf  of  a  gentleman  against 
whom  an  action  had  been  commenced  by  a  clergyman, 
for  having  said,  that  he  had  misled  and  seduced  the 
affections  of  a  young  lady,  who  as  a  pupil,  was  entrusted 
to  his  care.  The  defence  was, '  that  the  charge  was  true.' 
The  cause  excited  great  interest.  The  court  was  crowded 
to  excess.  I  at  this  moment  see  the  splendour  and  vir- 
tue by  which  we  were  surrounded,  all  deeply  interested 
by  this  interruption  of  the  charities  of  life  by  one  or 
other  of  the  litigant  parties.  The  cause  was  last  in  the 
paper,  and  came  on  late  after  dark  in  the  evening.  Lord 
Alvanley  was  the  judge.  The  plaintiff's  case  was  easily 
proved.  About  ten  at  night  your  father  rose  agitated, 
as  I  well  knew,  in  mind,  but  in  manner  most  tranquil. 
The  outline  of  his  address  I  well  remember.  You  must 

14* 


162  LIFE   OF   THE  [1801. 

consider  it  as  a  mere  skeleton.  He  began  by  an  expla- 
nation of  the  nature  of  power,  the  means  to  obtain  an 
end,  and  of  knowledge,  the  most  irresistible  of  all  powers. 
He  described  its  use  in  preserving  ourselves,  and  in  pro- 
moting the  happiness  of  society,  which  he  illustrated  by 
the  instances  of  many  of  the  noble  patriots  by  whom 
England  has  ever  been  distinguished.  He  then  described 
the  abuse  of  the  power  of  knowledge  for  the  gratification 
of  passion,  misleading  ignorance  and  innocence,  which 
he  illustrated  by  various  characters — the  swindler,  the 
libeller,  the  seducer.  '  The  abuse  of  power,'  he  added, 
'  which  we  have  this  night  to  consider,  is  the  abuse  of  it, 
by  a  preceptor  over  his  pupil ;  by  a  Christian  clergyman, 
over  a  young  woman,  whose  parents  had  confided  her  to 
his  care  and  instruction.'  The  court  was  as  still  as  the 
grave.  The  plaintiff  stood  nearly  opposite  to  us.  Your 
father,  mistaking  the  silence  of  the  court  for  want  of 
interest,  and  thinking  (as  he  afterwards  informed  me) 
that  he  had  wandered  too  much  into  philosophy,  hesi- 
tated. I  saw  his  embarrassment.  I  was  deeply  affected. 
The  sight  of  my  tears  convinced  him  of  his  error.  I 
earnestly  said,  '  For  God's  sake,  go  on.'  In  a  strain  of 
eloquence  never  exceeded,  he  proceeded.  The  whole 
court  was  carried  away ;  I  never  saw  such  emotion ;  the 
opposite  counsel  and  the  judge  were  manifestly  agitated. 
"At  this  moment  I  was  told  that  the  father  of  the 
young  woman  was  with  his  daughter,  sitting  near  to  Lord 
Alvanley.  I  hinted  it  to  my  friend ;  he  turned  instantly 
from  the  jury  to  the  bench.  He  called  upon  the  father, 
by  all  the  sweet  love  of  a  parent  for  his  child,  to  protect 
her  from  the  tutor,  in  whom  he  had  misplaced  his  confi- 
dence. He  appealed  to  the  daughter — as  a  father  he 
appealed  to  her.  He  besought  her  not  to  err  by  the 
only  mode  by  which  she  could  be  misled,  her  piety,  her 
love  of  knowledge  and  of  virtue.  He  turned  instantly 


1801.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  163 

to  the  plaintiff,  old  enough  to  be  the  father  of  the  young 
women,  who  stood  unmoved  before  us.  I  will  not  at- 
tempt to  describe  his  appeal. 

"  The  substance  of  it  was, 6  that  the  honest  and  just 
bounds  of  observation  by  one  person  upon  another, 
extend  no  farther  but  to  understand  him  sufficiently, 
whereby  not  to  give  him  offence,  or  whereby  to  be  able 
to  give  him  faithful  counsel,  or  whereby  to  stand  upon 
reasonable  guard  and  caution  with  respect  to  a  man's 
self;  but  to  be  speculative  into  another  man  to  the  end 
to  know  how  to  work  him,  or  wind  him,  or  govern  him, 
proceedeth  from  a  heart  that  is  double  and  cloven,  and 
not  entire  and  ingenuous.' 

"  It  is  my  belief  that  such  an  effect  was  never  pro- 
duced in  any  court  of  justice.  The  judge  reluctantly 
endeavoured  to  counteract  the  impression  which  had 
been  produced,  by  putting  his  weight  in  the  opposite 
scale,  but  it  was  vain.  A  verdict  was  pronounced  for 
the  defendant. 

"  I  walked  home  with  your  father  through  the  Abbey 
church-yard  (it  was  moonlight),  on  the  borders  of 
which  the  court  stands,  to  his  lodging,  which  was  at 
the  Abbey  gate.  He  was  much  affected.  He  took 
me  by  the  hand,  and  said,  '  Be  with  me  early  in  the 
morning.' 

"  In  the  morning  I  was  with  him  soon  after  seven. 
1  We  have,'  he  said, { two  days  before  us ;  shall  we  in, 
or  rather  out,  of  our  way  to  Norwich,  visit  Dereham, 
where  Cowper  died  ? '  The  carriage  was  soon  at  the 
door.  His  conversation  turned  upon  the  probable  result 
of  the  trial.  f  If  the  parent  has  any  sense,'  he  said,  i  he 
will  instantly  aliene  the  child  from  this  wolf;  but  I  fear 
it.  There  is  not  a  greater  mistake  than  the  supposition 
that  knowledge  immediately  generates  virtue.  My  speech 
of  last  night  will,  whatever  you  may  think,  for  a  time 


164  LIFE   OF   THE  [1801. 

increase,  rather  than  diminish,  the  evil.  It  will  call  all 
the  antagonist  feelings  into  action.  Her  sympathies  with 
him,  under  this  result  of  the  trial,  will  make  her  rebel 
the  more  certainly  against  the  justice  of  the  contempt 
and  disgrace,  which  will  overwhelm  him  ;  she  will  cling 
closer  to  the  object,  in  proportion  as  the  storm  which 
assails  it  lowers  darker  and  darker.  Such  are  the  affec- 
tions of  our  nature,  and  she  will  yield  to  them.  We 
think  according  to  our  opinions,  we  act  according  to 
our  habits.  Never,  I  repeat,  was  there  a  greater  error 
than  the  supposition  that  knowledge  immediately  gene- 
rates virtue.  This  father  ought  to,  but  he  will  not, 
remember  the  lesson  of  Fenelon,  when  Mentor  threw  his 
pupil  from  the  rock  into  the  ocean :  he  ought  to  remem- 
ber, that,  although  the  shores  of  the  Syrens  were  covered 
with  the  bones  of  the  victims  to  pleasure,  they  passed 
over  these  dry  bones  to  the  gratification  of  their  desires. 
But  I  have  done  my  best,  and,  although  grateful  for  the 
past,  I  lament  that  I  cannot  do  more.'  By  such  conver- 
sations was  I  instructed. 

"  We  reached  Dereham  about  mid-day,  and  wrote  to 
Mr.  Johnson,  the  clergyman,  who  had  protected  Cowper 
in  the  last  years  of  his  life,  and  in  whose  house  he  died. 
He  instantly  called  upon  us,  and  we  accompanied  him  to 
his  house.  In  the  Hall  we  were  introduced  to  a  little 
red  and  white  spaniel  in  a  glass  case — the  little  dog  Beau, 
who,  seeing  the  water-lily  which  Cowper  could  not  reach, 
'  plunging  left  the  shore.' 

'  I  saw  him  with  that  lily  cropped, 

Impatient  swim  to  meet 
My  quick  approach,  and  soon  he  dropped 

The  treasure  at  my  feet.' 

We  saw  the  room  where  Cowper  died,  and  the  bell  which 
he  last  touched.  We  went  to  his  grave,  and  to  Mrs. 


1801.]  BIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  165 

Unwin's,  who  is  buried  at  some  distance.  I  lamented 
this.  '  Do  not  live  in  the  visible,  but  the  invisible/  said 
your  father,  — '  his  attainments,  his  tenderness,  his 
affections,  his  sufferings,  and  his  hardships,  will  live  long 
after  both  their  graves  are  no  more.'  Nothing  could 
exceed  the  courtesy  and  kindness  of  Mr.  Johnson.  This 
was  the  last  of  our  pilgrimages  to  the  memory  of 
Cowper,  except  that,  on  a  future  circuit,  we  stopped  at 
Berkhampstead,  to  see  the  house  where  he  passed  his 
childhood,  and  where  his  mother  died.  It  is  a  parsonage, 
at  the  end  of  a  lane,  bordered  on  each  side  by  a  walk, 
down  which  he  saw 

'  The  hearse  that  bore  her  slow  away.' 

"We  proceeded  from  Cromer  to  Norwich.  Norwich 
was  always  a  haven  of  rest  to  us,  from  the  literary 
society  with  which  that  city  abounded ;  —  There  was 
Dr.  Sayers  whom  we  used  to  visit,  and  I  well  remember 
the  high-minded,  intelligent  William  Taylor ;  but  our 
chief  delight  was  in  the  society  of  Mrs.  John  Taylor, 
a  most  intelligent,  excellent  woman.  She  was  the  wife 
of  an  eminent  manufacturer  in  that  city.  Mild  and  un- 
assuming, quiet  and  meek,  sitting  amidst  her  large 
family,  occupied  with  her  needle  and  domestic  occu- 
pations, but  always  assisting,  by  her  great  knowledge, 
the  advancement  of  kind  and  dignified  sentiment  and 
conduct.  Manly  wisdom  and  feminine  gentleness  were 
in  her  united  with  such  attractive  manners,  that  she  was 
universally  loved  and  respected.  'In  high  thoughts  and 
gentle  deeds '  she  greatly  resembled  the  admirable  Lucy 
Hutchinson,  and  in  troubled  times  would  have  been 
equally  distinguished  for  firmness  in  what  she  thought 
right. 

"  In  her  society  we  passed  every  moment  we  could 
rescue  from  the  court.     We  at  last  escaped  from  the 


166  LIFE   OF   THE  [1801. 

1  judge  and  his  trumpet/  and  returned  to  the  'fumum  et 
opes' 

"  If  I  had  time,  I  could  recollect  many  other  con- 
versations with  which  you  might  be  interested. 

"  When  your  father  went  to  Bombay,  I  quitted  the 
circuit ;  it  had  lost  its  attractions.  He  kindly  wrote  to 
me  from  India,  with  an  intimation  that  the  office  of 
Advocate-General  might  be  acceptable  to  me ;  but  I 
had  twice  before  been  tempted  by  similar  offers,  which, 
after  careful  examination,  I  declined  :  —  these  were,  the 
office  of  Recorder  of  Prince  of  Wales's  Island,  and  of 
Advocate-General  at  Ceylon,  for  which  the  ardent,  affec- 
tionate, intelligent  Lady  Sandwich  applied,  without  my 
knowledge,  to  her  relation,  Lord  Castlereagh ;  but  I  was 
satisfied  that  there  was  not  any  pleasure  in  India  which 
could  be  a  pleasure  to  me,  except  the  society  of  your 
father ;  but  he  had  introduced  me  to  Lord  Bacon,  by 
whom  I  was  taught  the  error  of  attempting  to  found 
happiness  upon  the  life  of  any  man — '  Heri  vidi  fragilem 
frangi,  hodie  vidi  mortalem  mori ; '  and  I  had  been 
taught  that  'the  logical  part  of  some  men's  minds  is 
£ood,  but  the  mathematical  part  nothing  worth ;  that  is, 
they  can  judge  well  of  the  mode  of  attaining  the  end, 
but  ill  of  the  value  of  the  end  itself.' 

"  Such  are  a  few  of  the  recollections  which,  hurrying 
me  as  you  do,  I  am  able  to  communicate.  I  shall  ever 
think  my  intercourse  with  your  father  one  of  the  most 
fortunate,  if  not  the  most  fortunate  event  of  my  life. 
I  loved  him  living ;  I  respect  him  dead. 

'  Superstitis  cultor,  defuncti  admirator.' 

"  With  every  affectionate  wish  for  your  welfare, 
"  I  am,  my  dear  Mackintosh, 
u  Your  friend, 

"BASIL  MONTAGU." 


1801.]  EIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  167 

To  the  continental  reputation  which  his  lectures  had 
prepared  for  Mr.  Mackintosh,  he  probably  owed  an  invi- 
tation, made  about  this  time,  to  assist  in  a  project,  then 
under  consideration  of  the  Emperor  Alexander,  of  digest- 
ing the  Ukases  which  governed  Russia  into  something 
of  a  code  of  law.  The  Russian  Minister  in  this  country 
was  instructed  to  apply,  with  that  view,  to  "  Jurisconsults 
Anglais  qui,  comme  Mackintosh,  jouissent  d'une  reputa- 
tion distinguee."  Family  ties  forbade,  what  otherwise 
he  confessed  that  he  should  not  have  been  averse  from 
—  the  means  "  of  giving  more  effectual  aid,  by  a  per- 
sonal residence  for  some  time  in  Russia."  It  was  an  odd 
coincidence,  illustrating,  in  some  degree,  the  versatility 
of  his  talents,  that  an  opportunity  should  now  offer  of 
going,  as  a  jurist,  to  the  same  country  for  which  he  was 
once  destined  as  a  physician.  "  It  is  impossible,"  he 
observed  further  in  reply,  "  for  any  man,  who  has  any 
interest  in  the  welfare  of  mankind,  to  read  them  (the 
papers  transmitted)  without  emotion,  or  to  reflect  without 
pleasure,  that  plans  of  such  solid  utility  and  magnificent 
benevolence  are  entertained  by  a  prince  on  whom  the 
happiness  of  the  greatest  empire  in  the  world  depends. 
I  will  not  affect  to  conceal  the  pleasure,  which  I  have 
received  from  the  proposal  that  I  should  concur,  in  the 
smallest  degree,  in  so  noble  a  work.  I  feel  the  most 
ardent  zeal  to  exert  my  humble  talents  for  so  great  a 
purpose.  I  have  studied  the  science  of  legislation  enough 
to  be  penetrated  with  the  deepest  sense  of  its  difficulties, 
without  which  no  man  ever  learnt  to  conquer  them ;  and 
the  plan  itself  proves  that  his  Imperial  Majesty  and  his 
counsellors  are  superior  to  the  superstitious  dread  of 
improvement,  and  the  experience  of  the  present  age  is 
sufficient  to  guard  them  against  the  fanatical  pursuit  of 
novelty.  These  two  great  obstacles  to  legislation  being 
removed,  there  will  still  remain  many  difficulties  inherent 


168  LIFE    OF   THE  [1801. 

in  the  nature  of  the  subject  itself,  but  not  insuperable 
by  that  union  of  ardent  benevolence  and  cautious  pru- 
dence, which  forms  the  character  of  the  lawgiver." 

Literary  pursuits,  meanwhile,  continued  to  steal  away 
many  hours  from  harsher  studies.  It  was  in  reading 
that  he  was  principally  occupied,  occasionally  interrupted 
by  contributions  (of  which  one  or  two  have  been  men- 
tioned in  his  own  words)  to  the  British  Critic  and 
Monthly  Review,  then  the  only  literary  miscellanies  of 
note.  It  was  about  this  time  also  that  he  was  invited, 
by  a  body  of  London  booksellers,  to  superintend  a  new 
edition  of  Johnson's  Poets.  "  It  is  intended,"  he  writes 
to  a  literary  friend,  while  the  scheme  was  as  yet  not 
abandoned,  "  to  be  a  corpus  poetarwn  from  Chaucer  to 
Cowper,  for  which  I  am  to  write  lives  and  criticisms  for 
all  the  poets  before  Cowley,  with  whom  Johnson  begins, 
and  since  Gray,  with  whom  he  ends.  The  ancient  poets 
will  be  very  troublesome,  especially  Chaucer  and  Spen- 
ser ;  but  I  console  myself  for  my  ignorance  of  our  an- 
cient literature  by  the  reflection,  that  criticism,  in  such 
a  work  as  this,  ought  not  to  be  very  learned  or  recondite, 
but  such  as  every  man  of  good  taste  can  feel.  Johnson's 
own  criticism  is  popular.  Is  this  a  sufficient  excuse  for 
my  undertaking  to  criticise  writers,  whom  it  requires 
a  vast  portion  of  all  such  reading  as  was  never  read 
thoroughly  to  understand  ?  May  I  presume  to  judge 
Chaucer  without  the  viginti  annorum  lucubrationes  of 
Warton  and  Tyrwhitt  ?  It  must  be  owned,  that  the 
sort  of  talents  and  studies,  which  best  qualifies  men  for 
minutely  understanding  those  ancient  writers,  does  not, 
in  an  equal  degree,  qualify  them  to  make  ancient  poetry 
popular ;  and  perhaps  a  man,  very  deeply  learned  in 
these  old  poets,  could  scarcely  refrain  from  making  an 
unseasonable  display  of  his  erudition." 

Another  literary  project,  which  the  departure  of  the 


1801.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  169 

first  of  the  following  intended  coadjutors  from  this 
country  contributed  to  defeat,  was  the  establishment,  in 
conjunction  with  Mr.  Robert  Smith,  Mr.  Scarlett,  Mr. 
Rogers,  and  Mr.  Sharp,  of  a  periodical  paper,  to  be 
published  twice  a  week,  devoted  to  literature,  and  which 
would  probably  have  imitated  the  aim,  if  not  equalled 
the  execution,  of  the  essayists  of  the  reign  of  Queen 
Anne.  It  was  proposed  to  call  it  the  "  Batchelor." 

In  the  course  of  the  summer  of  the  same  year  (1801), 
he  paid  a  visit,  after  some  years  of  absence,  to  his  native 
Highlands,  connected  with  the  sale  of  his  paternal  pro- 
perty; — never  of  any  great  extent,  its  returns  had  been 
pretty  generally  anticipated,  and  it  became  consequently 
burdened  with  a  debt  of  which  its  proprietor  was  becoming 
impatient.  So  easy  an  escape  out  of  this  difficulty,  as  its 
entire  alienation  offered,  was  too  tempting  an  opportunity 
to  be  withstood  by  one,  who  probably  never  had  indulged 
much  in  those  feudal  prejudices,  stronger  even  at  that  time 
than  now,  which  link,  in  the  absence  of  entails,  so  many 
Highland  families  to  their  lands.  It  was  a  step  hastily 
determined  upon,  under  a  momentary  pressure,  and  con- 
sequently, as  may  be  supposed,  the  arrangements  were 
very  disadvantageously  concluded.  But  its  worst  effect 
was,  perhaps,  in  withdrawing  an  inducement  to  accumu- 
lation (with  a  view  to  its  improvement),  which  such 
possession  generally  successfully  holds  out.  All  over 
the  Highlands  of  Scotland  may  be  observed,  here  and 
there,  the  effects  of  a  little  stream  of  East  or  West 
Indian  gold,  running  side  by  side  with  the  mountain 
torrent,  spreading  cultivation,  and  fertility,  and  plenty 
along  its  narrow  valley,  and  carrying  away  before  it 
silently  all  those  signs  of  rocky  sterility,  over  which  its 
elder  companion  has  tumbled  "brawling"  since  "crea- 
tion's morn." 

After  embracing,  in  his  journey,  visits  to  some  friends 

VOL.  i.  15 


170  LIFE    OF    THE  [1801. 

in  different  parts  of  England  and  Scotland,  one  of  which 
was  to  Dr.  Paley,  at  Bishop's  Wearmouth,  where  he 
passed  a  few  days  very  agreeably  in  the  delightful  society 
of  that  eminent  person,  whose  biographer  commemorates* 
that  the  pleasure  was  mutual,  he  returned  to  London ; 
and  we  find  him  shortly  after  at  Bath,  in  company  with 
Mr.  Moore,  whose  diary  has  supplied  the  following  notes 
of  their  meeting. 

["Nov.  13th. — I  arrived  in  Bath  from  Ireland.  On 
the  27th,  Mackintosh  came  there.  We  dined  together 
at  an  inn.  We  had  a  good  deal  of  conversation  on  a 
variety  of  subjects.  He  told  me  that,  in  the  course  of 
the  summer,  he  has  spent  two  days  on  a  visit  at  the 
house  of  Mr.  Henry  Dundas,  late  Secretary  of  State, 
afterwards  Lord  Melville.  Mr.  Dundas  said  that,  from 
his  experience  in  affairs,  he  had  been  taught  to  have  very 
little  faith  in  historians.  '  For  instance,'  insisted  he, 
1  the  motives  I  and  my  colleagues  have  assigned  for  our 
resignation,  drawn  from  the  popery  question,  no  historian 
will  believe ;  and,  if  any  mentions  it,  he  will  treat  it  as  a 
mere  pretext  to  cover  the  real  motive  ;  and  he  will  sup- 
port his  representation  by  very  plausible  arguments ;  yet 
nothing  can  be  more  true  than  that  the  reason  we  assigned 
was  the  real  one.  The  king  was  prepared  to  oppose  us 
on  the  popery  question.  As  early  as  the  time  of  the 
union  I  had  a  conversation  with  him  on  the  subject.'  '  I 
hope,'  said  the  king, '  government  is  not  pledged  to  any 
thing  in  favour  of  the  Romardsts  (that  was  his  expression).' 
'  No/  was  my  answer, '  but  it  will  be  a  matter  for  future 
consideration,  whether,  to  render  the  measure  the  more 
efficient,  it  will  not  be  proper  to  embrace  them  in  some 
liberal  plan  of  policy.'  '  What  say  you  to  my  coronation 
oath,'  asked  the  king  ?  (  That  can  only  apply  to  your 

*  Meadley's  Life  of  Paley. 


1802.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  171 

majesty,  I  conceive,  in  your  executive  capacity.  It  does 
not  refer  to  you  as  part  of  the  legislature.'  '  None  of 
your  Scotch  metaphysics,  Mr.  Dundas,'  replied  the  king. 

"  Mackintosh  and  I  agreed  that,  in  explaining  human 
conduct,  we  should  very  seldom  indeed  proceed  on  the 
supposition  of  continued  systematic  hypocrisy.  It  is 
much  more  probable  that  men  are  blinded  by  the  preju- 
dices of  the  time,  or  were  otherwise  deceived,  than  that 
they  advanced  one  thing,  and  thought  another ;  and  that 
during  the  whole  course  of  their  lives.  If  hypocrisy  to 
this  extent  ever  existed,  it  must  be  deemed  a  monster, 
which  is  not  to  be  taken  into  account  in  laying  down 
rules  or  general  principles  of  action. 

"Jan.  10th,  1802. — I  saw  Mackintosh  at  his  house  in 
London.*  In  the  course  of  our  conversation,  he  said 
that  Fenelon  appeared  to  him  '  la  plus  belle  ame  qui  fut 
jamais.'  I  would  not  give  up  my  favourite  Cicero.  He 
said  of  Burke, ( qu'il  connoissait  I'homme,  mais  non  pas 
les  homines.' 

"  April  5th. — I  happened  to  ask  Mackintosh  what  was 
the  reason,  in  his  opinion,  why  mythological  subjects,  and 
subjects  taken  from  the  Grecian  story,  which  are  often  so 

full  of  interest  and  effect  in  the  hands  of  French  dramatic 

\ 

writers,  were  generally  so  cold  and  devoid  of  interest  in 
an  English  dress.  The  reason  he  thought  was,  that  we 
read  or  see  our  English  play  with  a  taste  formed  by  the 
English  stage ;  and  those  ancient  subjects  are  usually 
accompanied  by  something  of  the  simplicity  and  tone  of 
the  ancient  drama,  to  which  such  a  taste  does  not  easily 
accommodate  itself. 

"  I  consulted  him  on  the  principle  of  self-mortification, 


*  Situated  in  Guilford  Street,  Russell  Square.  According  to  all 
precedent  in  professional  advancement,  he  had  left  his  small  house  in 
Serle  Street,  for  a  more  commodious  one  in  the  above  neighbourhood. 


172  LIFE   OF   THE  [1802. 

why  it  had  been  so  prevalent  among  mankind,  and 
esteemed  of  such  value  in  the  eyes  of  the  Deity,  forming 
a  part  of  almost  all  systems  of  religion — distinguishable 
to  a  certain  degree,  even  in  the  ancient  Pagan  religions, 
which  had  such  an  air  of  gaiety  and  festivity,  and  seemed 
most  alien  from  it.  He  suggested  two  different  accounts 
or  explanations  of  the  thing.  One  sufficiently  reasonable, 
and  therefore,  probably,  not  the  true  reason ;  namely, 
that  as  most  of  the  vices,  and  many  of  the  crimes,  among 
men,  proceeded  from  the  excess  of  sensual  gratification, 
the  line  of  virtue  and  acceptance  to  the  Deity  would 
come  to  be  regarded  in  a  direction  the  farthest  from  this 
extreme.  The  other  explanation  was  likely  to  be  the 
true  one,  as  more  analogous  to  the  general  cast  of  the 
human  mind.  Men  regarded  self-mortification  in  the 
light  of  a  sacrifice. 

"  May  4th. — I  spent  this  evening  with  M.  We  had  a 
good  deal  of  conversation.  He  observed, '  that  the  genius 
of  Lord  Bacon,  as  a  philosopher,  seems  to  have  taken 
some  of  its  bent  and  colour  from  his  situation  in  life,  as 
a  lawyer  and  statesman.  He  exercised  a  sort  of  magis- 
tracy, laying  down  the  laws  to  be  followed,  and  pointing 
out  the  ways  of  reform  and  improvement.  His  charac- 
teristic was  not  dialectical  acuteness,  but  this  grave,  pre- 
siding, regulating  faculty.' 

"  I  happened  to  say  that  I  thought  that  the  generals, 
and  other  leaders,  who  had  acquired  large  fortunes  amidst 
the  storms  of  the  French  revolution,  would,  after  the 
strife,  and  contention,  and  ferment,  they  had  been  accus- 
tomed to,  find  little  relish  in  the  enjoyments  of  peaceable, 
or  even  voluptuous  life  ;  but,  in  a  state  of  peace  and  idle- 
ness, be  consumed  with  ennui.  'No,'  answered  M., 
'  you  have  to  remark,  they  are  not  persons  familiarised 
in  early  life  with  such  enjoyments.  Their  relish  has  not 
been  destroyed  by  custom  and  use.  They  will  revel  in 


1802.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  173 

these  luxuries,  which  are  all  new  to  them ;  and  even 
peace,  and  the  calm  enjoyment  of  them,  will  be  an  addi- 
tional luxury.' 

"  16th. — I  dined  with  M.  He  had  met,  at  dinner,  the 
day  before,  Monsieur  Fieve'e,  author  of  two  French  novels, 
( Frederic]  and  '  Le  Dot  de  Suzette]  and  several  other 
publications.  He  mentioned  some  remarks  which  fell 
from  him.  (  On  entering  a  public  place  in  England,  you 
observe,'  said  he,  '  a  settled  melancholy  in  many  faces 
about  you,  to  a  degree  that,  if  you  were  in  any  other 
country,  you  would  be  tempted  to  go  up  to  the  persons 
and  ask  them  what  was  the  matter  with  them.  In  other 
persons  you  trace  the  image  of  domestic  happiness.'  He 
went  so  far  as  to  declare  that  he  could  distinguish,  in  an 
English  crowd,  the  good  husband  and  the  good  father. 
I  treated  all  this  as  the  effect  of  the  heated  imagination  of 
a  French  novelist,  who  saw  every  thing  through  the  prism 
of  romance.  Fievee,  and  two  or  three  other  persons  at 
dinner,  had  been  in  Paris  during  the  whole  continuance 
of  the  revolution.  M.  thought  he  saw  the  impression  of 
all  the  terrible  events  they  had  witnessed  in  a  peculiar 
grave,  and  somewhat  melancholy  and  severe  turn,  their 
countenances  had  assumed.  When  some  profane  allusion 
was  hazarded,  they  all  testified  a  strong  dislike  of  it. 
Fievee,  remarking  on  the  spirit  of  philosophy  in  France, 
said  it  could  have  been  subdued  only  by  the  revolution. 
Some  anecdotes,  relating  to  Buonaparte,  were  thrown  out. 
He  was,  in  a  curious  degree,  ignorant  of  the  early  circum- 
stances of  the  revolution.  When  in  Egypt,  he  learned 
many  of  them  in  conversation  with  his  fellow  general, 
Desaix.  He  was  particularly  struck  and  affected  by  the 
events  which  led  to  the  downfal  of  the  unfortunate 
Louis  XVI.  '  Oh !  that  he  had  had  me  near  him,'  would 
he  often  exclaim.  He  happened  one  day  to  ask  a  per- 
son whether  it  was  true  that  Talleyrand  had  ever  been 

15* 


174  LIFE   OF   THE  [1803. 

a  bishop.  The  person  questioned,  afraid  of  being  disco- 
vered by  his  master  in  a  falsehood,  yet,  conscious  of  the 
offence  which  he  might  give  to  so  powerful  a  minister  as 
Talleyrand,  framed  his  answer  with  a  ludicrous  circum- 
spection :  '  Tout  le  irwule  le  dit,  et  mvi,je  le  crois! 

"  Buonaparte  is  fond  of  writing,  himself,  in  the  Moni- 
teur.  The  wits  of  Paris  know  his  style ;  and  have  further 
discovered,  that  most  of  his  paragraphs  commence  with 
the  words  '  le  gouvernement  a  vu  avec  plaisir.'  With 
all  his  philosophy,  he  has  never  been  able  entirely  to 
shake  off  the  religion  of  his  childhood.  The  Mani- 
festoes, published  in  his  name  in  Egypt,  in  which  he 
disclaimed  the  Christian  faith,  are  known  to  have 
been  composed  for  him  by  the  '  savans,'  who  attended 
him. 

"25th. — I  spent  the  evening  with  M.  He  told  me  a 
story  of  Sheridan  and  Fox.  Fox  found  out  in  a  scholiast 
upon  Aristophanes,  a  passage  which  he  thought  extremely 
applicable  to  Addington's  coming  in,  as  successor  to  Pitt ; 
but,  for  some  reason  or  other,  did  not  wish  to  make  use 
of  it  himself  in  the  House  of  Commons,  but  mentioned 
it  as  what  might  very  well  be  made  use  of.  Sheridan 
heard  of  it,  got  it  translated  for  him,  and  introduced  it 
with  great  effect  in  the  speech  in  his  debate  which  arose 
on  the  definitive  treaty  of  peace  with  France.  M.  heard 
a  member  of  the  house  say,  that  the  house  was  so 
delighted  with  it,  Sheridan  might  have  gone  up  to  the 
speaker  and  pulled  off  his  wig — they  could  not  have 
brought  themselves  to  testify  any  displeasure.  *' 

"Jan.  15th,  1803. — M.  and  I  were  speaking  on  what 
the  French  call  camctdre,  and  which  has  no  name  in  our 
language.  He  expressed  his  inability  to  distinguish  that 
particular  quality  of  mind,  which  confers  the  superiority 
over  others,  which  is  always  the  result  of  caractdre. 
Caractdre  does  not  seem  necessarily  to  involve  a  supe- 


1803.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  175 

riority  of  understanding ;  neither  is  it  absolutely  courage. 
Men  have  been  known  to  possess  it,  who  were  not  per- 
sonally brave.  Whatever  it  is,  or  whatever  confers  it,  it 
raises  the  man  who  is  gifted  with  it,  by  an  irresistible 
necessity,  to  dominion  and  sovereignty  over  those  who  have 
it  not.  We  see  its  effects  on  all  assemblies  of  men.  It 
designates  a  man  for  command  with  almost  as  much  cer- 
tainty as  birth  in  some  countries.  All  feel  its  dominion; 
all,  however  unwillingly,  pay  homage  to  it.  Equals  meet, 
but  the  equality  lasts  no  longer  than  till  the  man  (  de 
caractere'  makes  his  appearance. 

"M.  mentioned  an  observation  he  heard  made  by 
Madame  de  Souza.  '  Strange,'  said  she, l  that  there  is  no 
word  in  the  English  language  for  ennui,  when  the  thing 
so  much  prevails.'  '  It  is  perhaps  for  that  very  reason,' 
M.  remarked  to  her :  '  the  feeling  is  so  general,  and  so 
considered,  that  it  is  taken  as  a  thing  of  course  and 
unavoidable,  and  not  calling  for  a  particular  name  to 
designate  it.'  He  from  that  instance  drew  a  general 
philological  principle,  that  it  is  not  always  the  presence 
of  a  thing  or  idea  which  adds  a  word  to  a  language. 
The  thing  must  stand  in  certain  relations,  so  as  to 
press  on  the  observation  of  the  people  of  a  country. 
I  would  not  agree  to  the  fact  that  ennui  prevailed  more 
in  England  than  in  France.  I  thought  I  could  prove  the 
contrary. 

"  M.  spoke  of  what  he  thought  the  happy  substitution 
of  a  word  by  a  French  lady,  in  some  company  in  which 
he  was.  They  were  speaking  of  different  styles  of  writing 
— that  of  Buffon  was  talked  of:  CH  est  bien  froid,'  said 
some  one.  '  Non  pas  froid,'  observed  the  lady ;  '  mais 
calme.' 

"  To  some  Frenchmen  who  had  complimented  him  at 
Paris  on  his  Vidiciae  GaUicae,  he  answered, '  Messieurs,  vous 
rrfavez  si  bien  refute  /' 


176  LIFE   OF   THE  [1803. 

"  He  told  us  of  some  one  in  Paris  who  had  made  a 
collection  of  all  the  rebellious,  antisocial,  blasphemous, 
obscene  books  and  tracts,  published  during  the  hottest 
days  of  the  Revolution,  which  he  offered  for  sale ;  he 
understood  for  about  1500£  He  observed,  this  would 
be  a  valuable  collection  for  a  future  historian ;  and  he 
believed  it  would  soon  disappear,  as  he  was  informed  the 
French  government  was  doing  every  thing  to  destroy 
all  such  works."* 

These  latter  passages  allude  to  a  visit  which,  in  the 
preceding  autumn  (availing  himself  of  the  recent  peace 
of  Amiens),  Mr.  Mackintosh  paid  to  Paris,  accompanied 
by  Mrs.  Mackintosh.  They  spent  a  month  in  that  city. 
He  was  among  the  crowds  of  English  who  were  intro- 
duced to  Buonaparte.  Rather  an  amusing  incident 
occurred  on  that  occasion.  The  first  consul  was 
furnished  by  his  nomenclator  with  some  circumstance 
of  the  life  or  character  of  the  most  eminent  of  the  per- 
sons introduced,  on  which  to  found  a  compliment.  As 
Mr.  M.  advanced  to  be  presented  to  "  the  Head  of  the 
French  government,"  a  friend  who  passed  him,  returning 
from  the  ceremony,  whispered  him,  "  I  have  got  your 


*  "  I  have  reason  to  think  that  this  work  of  destruction  went  on  with 
an  accelerated  pace  after  the  Restoration,  and  even  reached  La  Biblio- 
theque  du  Roi.  The  Abbe  Morellet,  in  his  very  interesting  Memoirs, 
refers  to  a  periodical  work  published  by  Garat,  La  Clef  du  Cabinet  des 
Souverains,  of  the  date  of  the  1st  March,  1797,  in  which  there  was  a 
particular  and  detailed  account  of  all  the  sums  of  money  contributed  by 
different  persons,  at  the  beginning  and  early  days  of  the  Revolution,  to 
forward  the  course  of  events,  chiefly  by  the  Duke  of  Orleans.  I  went, 
when  I  was  at  Paris,  at  the  end  of  1829,  to  the  Bibliotheque  du  Roi,  in 
search  of  this  curious  Tract.  The  chief  librarian,  was  a  friend  of  mine, 
and  went  himself  to  look  for  it  for  me ;  but  it  was  not  to  be  found, 
though  all  the  other  numbers  of  the  work  were  there.  It  had  probably 
been  destroyed  by  some  friend  of  the  Orleans'  family,  and  I  suppose 
now  is  nowhere  in  existence." —  G.  M. 


1802.]  RIGHT  HON.   SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  177 

compliment."  The  first  consul,  from  some  mistake  on 
his  part,  or  from  some  change  in  the  order  of  presenta- 
tion of  the  two  gentlemen,  had  addressed  him  who  was 
first  introduced  with  an  assurance  that  somewhat  sur- 
prised him,  "that  he  was  the  person  who  wrote  the 
unanswerable  answer  to  Burke." 

At  the  same  time  that  he  renewed  his  acquaintance 
with  many  distinguished  Frenchmen,  whom  he  had 
known  before,  either  at  Paris  or  in  England,  he  visited 
all  the  spots  which  had  been  rendered  memorable  by  the 
events  of  the  Revolution ;  and  had  an  opportunity  of 
marking  the  effects  which  the  events  that  had  taken 
place  had  produced  on  the  national  character,  and  on 
science  and  literature. 

"  The  sight  of  the  places,"  he  writes  to  a  friend,  "  and 
the  men,  of  which  I  had  read,  and  thought,  and  felt  so 
much,  revived  my  intense  interest.  A  very  minute 
acquaintance  with  revolutionary  history,  made  inquiry 
easy  and  successful." 

Amongst  his  correspondence  on  his  return,  there 
is  a  letter  to  the  late  Professor  Stewart,  in  which  the 
impressions,  which  such  a  rapid  glance  into  the  state  of 
the  country  left,  are  further  adverted  to. 


"TO   DUGALD    STEWART,   ESQ. 

"  60,  Upper  Guilford-street,  Dec.  14th,  1802. 

"  MY  DEAR  sm,  —  I  avail  myself  of  the  politeness  of 
our  friend,  Mr.  Sydney  Smith,  to  offer  you  my  most 
respectful  remembrances.  I  felt  great  mortification  that 
your  absence  from  Edinburgh  deprived  me  of  an  oppor- 
tunity of  personally  paying  my  respects  to  you  in  the 
autumn  of  1801.  But  though  I  could  not  see  you,  I 
fett  your  influence,  in  the  taste,  the  knowledge,  and  the 


178  LIFE    OF   THE  [1802. 

eager  and  enlightened  curiosity,  which  you  had  diffused 
among  the  ingenious  young  men  with  whom  I  had  the 
pleasure  of  conversing.  Since  that  time  I  have  to  thank 
you  for  the  pleasure  I  have  received  from  your  Life  of 
Robertson.  I  own  I  read  it  with  regret  that  you  had 
not  added  Hume  to  your  Scottish  Biography.  A  life 
of  Hume  by  you,  could  not  fail  to  be  a  history  of 
modern  metaphysics.  His  predecessors  and  masters, 
Hobbes  and  Berkeley ;  his  contemporaries,  Hartley  and 
Condillac ;  and  his  antagonist,  Dr.  Reid  (not  to  mention 
the  philosophy  of  Kant,  which  professedly  took  its 
rise  in  his  Essay  on  Causation),  would  furnish  very 
ample  materials  for  a  good  chapter  in  a  philosophical 
history  of  philosophy.  I  had  the  pleasure  of  yesterday 
sending  to  Paris  two  copies  of  your  Elements ;  *  one  to 
the  Abbe  Morellet,  whom  I  suppose  you  knew  in  France, 
the  gayest  old  man  of  seventy-five,  I  presume,  in  Europe, 
the  only  survivor  of  the  economists  and  encyclopedists, 
a  fellow-student  of  Turgot  at  the  Sorbonne,  who  trans- 
ported me  a  century  back  in  imagination,  by  talking  of 
his  dining  at  the  Baron  d'Holbach's  with  Hume,  the 
day  before  his  journey  to  England  with  Rousseau ; — the 
other  copy  I  sent  to  Degerando,  with  whom  I  spoke  often 
of  you.  I  frequently  saw  him  with  his  friend,  Camille 
Jourdan,  with  whom  he  lives.  They  are  the  most  amiable 
men  I  saw  in  France.  I  have  not  read  D.'s  book,  but 
his  conversation  did  not  give  me  a  high  opinion  of  his 
metaphysical  acuteness.  In  general  it  appeared  to  me, 
that  one  might  give  a  just  account  of  the  state  of 
learning  at  Paris,  by  saying  that  the  mathematical  and 
physical  sciences  were  very  actively  and  successfully 
cultivated,  polite  literature  neglected,  erudition  extinct, 
and  that  moral  and  political  speculation  were  disco  un- 

*  Of  the  Philosophy  of  the  Human  Mind- 


1802.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  179 

tenanced  by  the  government,  and  had  ceased  to  interest 
the  public. 

"  It  would  be  ridiculous  to  pretend  to  have  observed 
much  of  so  vast  a  subject  as  the  political  state  of  France 
in  four  weeks'  residence  at  Paris.  The  little  that  I  either 
observed,  or  supposed  myself  to  observe ;  the  opinions, 
or  rather  tendencies  to  opinion,  which  I  have  ventured 
to  entertain,  Mr.  Smith  has  heard  me  so  often  state,  that 
if  you  should  have  the  slightest  curiosity  about  any  thing 
so  insignificant,  he  can  perfectly  gratify  it. 

"  It  appeared  to  me,  that  all  the  elements  of  a  free, 
or  even  of  a  civil  government,  have  been  broken  and  dis- 
persed in  the  course  of  the  Revolution.  Nothing,  I  own, 
would  surprise  me  more  than  to  see  any  authority  in 
France  not  resting  chiefly  on  military  force ;  the  Revolu- 
tion unanimously  condemned ;  a  dread  of  change  greater 
than  the  passion  for  change  was  in  1789;  a  broken- 
spirited  people,  and  a  few  virtuous  and  well-informed 
men,  without  adherents,  without  concert,  without  extra- 
ordinary talents,  breathing  vain  wishes  for  liberty : — these 
were  the  features  which  most  struck  me  in  the  political 
state  of  France.  Frenchmen  seem  destined  to  be  the 
slaves  of  a  military  chief,  and  the  terror  of  their  neigh- 
bours for  a  time ;  beyond  which,  I  can  pretend  to  see 
nothing. 

"Even  the  Syllabus  of  your  Lectures  on  Political 
Economy  would  be  very  acceptable  to  myself  and  many 
of  my  friends  in  London,  till  we  could  hope  to  see  the 
lectures  themselves  published.  May  I  venture  to  indulge 
a  hope,  that  the  octavo  edition  of  the  Elements  is  the 
precursor  of  a  second  volume  ? 

"  Germany  is  metaphysically  mad.  France  has  made 
some  poor  efforts,  which  have  ended  in  little  more  than 
the  substitution  of  the  word  Ideology  for  Metaphysics. 
In  England,  such  speculations  have  been  long  out  of 


180  LIFE   OF   THE  [1802. 

fashion,  and  Scotland  has  nobody  to  rely  on  but  you  for 
the  maintenance  of  her  character. 

"  I  am  ashamed  at  having  written  so  much  and  said  so 
little.  If  you  will  have  the  goodness  to  give  me  another 
opportunity  of  corresponding  with  you,  perhaps  I  may 
be  more  fortunate.  In  the  mean  time  I  am,  with  great 
sincerity, 

"Dear  Sir, 
"Your  faithful,  humble  servant, 

"JAMES  MACKINTOSH." 

After  Mr.  Mackintosh's  return  from  Paris,  his  time  and 
thoughts  were,  for  some  time,  a  good  deal  occupied  in  the 
preparation  for  an  impending  trial,  which  excited  much 
interest, — that  of  M.  Peltier,  an  emigrant-royalist,  for  a 
libel  on  the  First  Consul  of  France.  The  sensitiveness  of 
the  latter  personage,  as  to  the  abuse  showered  on  him  by 
the  English  press  of  that  day,  was  long  before  known; 
but  the  peace,  (such  as  it  was,)  of  Amiens,  which  recog- 
nised him  as  the  head  of  a  friendly  government,  first  gave 
him  the  opportunity,  of  which  he  was  not  slow  to  avail 
himself,  of  bringing,  by  means  of  a  remonstrance  on  the 
subject,  through  his  minister  at  this  court,  his  assailants 
before  a  tribunal  of  their  country.  M.  Peltier  had  left 
France  in  1792, "when  our  shores  were  covered,  as  with 
the  wreck  of  a  great  tempest,"  and  had  supported 
himself,  during  the  interval,  by  the. fruit  of  his  literary 
labour ;  he  was  now  amongst  those  devoted  adherents  of 
the  exiled  family  who  refused  to  avail  themselves  of  the 
permission  to  return  to  France  and  resume  their  property, 
which  was  accorded  by  the  new  government.  It  was  not  un- 
natural that  such  devotion  should  have  been  accompanied 
by  a  heedless  warmth  of  expression  which  exposed  him 
to  be  the  first  victim  of  the  law.  In  the  first  numbers  of  a 
journal," L'Ambigu"  there  appeared  some  articles, amongst 


1803.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  181 

which  was  an  Ode,  put  into  the  mouth  of  Chenier,  which 
were  selected  for  prosecution,  and  which,  if  they  were 
thought  of  sufficient  importance  to  be  adverted  to  at  all, 
could  scarcely  have  been  passed  over.  They  contained 
allusions,  one  to  the  death  of  Caesar,  and  another  to  the 
speedy  apotheosis  of  the  First  Consul,  in  connection  with 
the  fate  of  Romulus,  which  pretty  plainly  hinted  at  the 
termination  to  his  tyranny,  which  the  author  recom- 
mended. The  crowded  appearance  of  the  court  on  the 
day  of  the  trial,  the  21st  of  February,*  which  was  such 
as  to  call  forth  the  notice  of  the  Attorney  General,  Mr. 
Perceval,  was  only  a  symptom  of  the  general  excitement 
which  these  proceedings  occasioned.  The  disparity  of 
station  of  the  parties,  one,  K  the  real  prosecutor,"  the 
master  of  the  greatest  empire  the  civilised  world  ever 
saw,  the  other  a  friendless  outcast  —  the  novelty  of  an 
appeal  to  any  laws  by  the  first  —  the  importance  which 
was  in  many  minds  attached  to  the  verdict,  as  being  con- 
ducive, whether  conciliatory  or  the  contrary,  to  the  pros- 
pects either  of  war  or  peace,  —  and  in  some  degree,  no 
doubt,  the  expectation  of  some  such  display  of  reason  and 
eloquence,  as  was  so  amply  realised,  sufficiently  accounts 
for  the  general  interest  which  attended  this  proceeding. 
The  address  which  Mr.  Mackintosh  delivered  upon  this 
occasion  will  probably  maintain  its  place  amongst  the  few 
efforts  of  forensic  oratory  which  are  preserved  as  models 
for  the  artist,  as  might  have  been  expected  from  its  effect 
on  those  who  were  fortunate  enough  to  be  present.  In 
addressing  the  Jury  in  reply  to  it,  Mr.  Perceval  could 
not  help  expressing  his  fear,  "  after  the  attention  of  the 
Jury  had  been  so  long  rivetted  to  one  of  the  most  splendid 
displays  of  eloquence  he  ever  had  occasion  to  hear — after 

*  The  same  day  on  which  Colonel  Despard  and  his  associates  were 
executed  for  high  treason. 

VOL.  I.  16 


182  LIFE    OF    THE  [1803. 

their  understandings  had  been  so  long  dazzled  by  the 
contemplation  of  that  most  splendid  exhibition  —  that, 
whatever  the  feeble  light  of  such  understandings  as  his 
could  present  to  them,  he  could  scarcely  feel  a  hope  of 
making  any  impression  on  their  senses."  From  another, 
and  a  still  greater  authority — "nostrae  eloquentiaa  foren- 
sis  facile  princeps,"  *  he  received  the  following  note,  dated 
the  same  evening. 

"  DEAR  MACKINTOSH.  —  I  cannot  shake  off  from  my 
nerves  the  effect  of  your  most  powerful  and  wonderful 
speech,  which  so  completely  disqualifies  you  for  Trinidad 
or  India.  I  could  not  help  saying  to  myself  as  you  were 
speaking  — l  0  terram  illam  leatam,  quce  hunc  virum 
acceperit,  hanc  ingratam,  si  ejecerit,  miseram,  si  amiserit" 
I  perfectly  approve  of  the  verdict ;  but  the  manner  in 
which  you  opposed  it,  I  shall  always  consider  as  one  of 
the  most  splendid  monuments  of  genius,  learning,  and 
eloquence. 

"  Yours,  ever, 

«  T.  ERSKINE. 

"  Monday  evening." 

M.  Peltier  himself  published  the  report  of  the  trial, 
and  the  defence  ^  was  revised  by  the  speaker,  probably 
with  much  care,  the  result  of  which  appears  in  the 
rounded  style  and  sustained  tenor,  which  offer  the  ground 
for  the  remark  which  has  been  often  made — that  it  reads 


*  Inscription  on  the  base  of  Lord  Erskine's  statue  at  Holland  House. 

f  A  translation  was  made  by  Madame  de  Stael,  which  contributed  to 
spread  the  admiration  of  it  throughout  Europe.  Mr.  Mackintosh  was 
highly  honoured  in  the  rank  of  his  translators.  In  addition  to  the  present 
instance,  "  The  Vindiciae  Gallicae  "  had,  it  is  believed,  been  partly  trans- 
lated into  French  by  his  present  Majesty  the  King  of  the  French,  as  was 
a  subsequent  speech  for  Poland  by  the  patriotic  Princess  lablonowska. 


1803.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  183 

more  like  a  brilliant  essay  than  a  speech  to  conciliate  a 
verdict.  The  address,  however,  even  as  delivered,  was 
more  deeply  imbued  with  the  colouring  of  his  own  pre- 
vious meditations  than  he  was  probably  conscious  of; 
and  it  may,  especially  the  latter  part,  be  cited  as  an  in- 
stance of  that  turn  of  mind  towards  generalisation,  which 
he  himself  confessed  to,  adding,  "  that  his  talent  (if  he 
had  any)  was  of  that  kind."  The  mode  of  the  defence, 
nevertheless,  even  with  this  defect,  is  not  likely  to  be 
copied  in  future  instances  by  any  number  of  practitioners 
that  would  make  the  example  dangerous.  Lord  Erskine, 
however,  understood  the  scope  and  merit  of  his  art  better 
than  to  have  received  such  pleasure  from  any  exhibi- 
tion of  it  which  was  manifestly  wide  of  its  legitimate 
aim,  the  safety  of  a  client ;  and  that  his  was  the  pretty 
general  opinion  of  the  surrounding  bar,  may  be  inferred 
from  the  following  communication  from  one  whose  own 
moral  sensibility,  under  the  unfortunate  circumstances  of 
the  client,  would  have  been  sure  to  have  been  outraged 
even  more  than  his  oratorical  taste  by  an  unseasonable 
self- display. 

"  Lincoln's  Inn,  Tuesday. 

"  DEAR  MACKINTOSH,  —  It  gives  me  very  sincere  plea- 
sure to  hear  from  all  quarters  such  applauses  of  your 
speech.  As  to  eloquence  and  ability  nobody  had  any 
doubt,  though  their  expectations  might  not  go  so  far ; 
but  I  am  particularly  glad  to  hear  mingled  the  humbler 
praise  of  judgment  and  discretion,  and  that  no  interests 
were  sacrificed.  I  long  to  see  a  good  edition  of  it ;  and 
as  this  was  the  best  theatre  you  ever  had,  I  am  convinced 
you  will  soon  feel  important  effects  from  this  event. 

"  Yours,  affectionately, 

"  GEORGE  WILSON." 


184  LIFE    OF   THE  [1803. 

The  defence  may  be  divided  into  two  parts ;  the  first 
was  occupied  by  the  suggestion  of  all  the  hypotheses 
which  ingenuity  could  supply,  consistent  with  M.  Peltier's 
innocence  of  actual  participation  in  the  authorship  of 
these  alleged  libels,  and  by  pointing  out  many  ambiguities, 
which  a  friendly  eye  could  discover  in  the  writings  them- 
selves—  such  as  reminding  the  jury,  by  some  examples 
from  ancient  history,  of  heroes  deified  in  their  own  life- 
time, and  thus  that  the  apotheosis  of  Buonaparte,  for 
which  the  wish  was  expressed  in  the  libel,  did  not  neces- 
sarily presuppose  his  sudden  death.  It  was  to  these 
eminently  practical  and  apposite  observations  that  Lord 
Ellenborough  referred,  when  expressing  his  own  opinion 
of  the  criminal  aim  of  the  writings ;  adding  that  it  was 
formed,  "  notwithstanding  the  very  ingenious  gloss  and 
colour  by  eloquence,  almost  unparalleled,  by  which  they 
were  defended."  There  was  another  course  to  a  verdict, 
upon  which,  indeed  (for  the  writer's  purpose  was,  after  all, 
too  apparent),  the  Advocate  more  relied,  and  it  lay 
through  the  national  prejudices  and  common  sympathies 
of  the  jury.  The  suitable  topics  were  applied  with  no 
ordinary  vigour ;  these  were  arrayed  to  rouse  their  pity 
for  "  the  voluntary  victim  of  loyalty  and  conscience  "  — 
to  recal  to  their  indignant  memory  the  success  with  which 
the  voice  of  truth  and  reason  was  already  silenced  over 
Europe  by  the  French  ruler.  Their  patriotism  was  re- 
minded that  there  was  but  one  vent  of  public  opinion 
which  he  had  not  yet  been  able  to  close  ;  they  felt  they 
might  indulge  pride,  in  being  told  that  "  they  might  con- 
sider themselves  as  the  advanced  guard  of  liberty,  as 
having  this  day  to  fight  the  first  battle  of  free  discussion 
against  the  most  formidable  enemy  that  it  ever  encoun- 
tered ; "  and  they  were  lastly  reminded  of  the  deeds  of 
an  English  jury,  when  appealed  to  by  one  of  somewhat 
similar  character,  under  like  circumstances. 


1803.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  185 

"  One  asylum  of  free  discussion  is  still  inviolate.  There  is 
still  one  spot  in  Europe  where  man  can  freely  exercise  his  rea- 
son on  the  most  important  concerns  of  society  —  where  he  can 
boldly  publish  his  judgment  on  the  acts  of  the  proudest  and 
most  powerful  tyrants.  The  press  of  England  is  still  free.  It 
is  guarded  by  the  free  constitution  of  our  forefathers.  It  is 
guarded  by  the  hearts  and  arms  of  Englishmen  ;  and  I  trust  I 
may  venture  to  say,  that  if  it  be  to  fall,  it  will  fall  only  under 
the  ruins  of  the  British  empire. 

"  It  is  an  awful  consideration,  Gentlemen.  Every  other 
monument  of  European  liberty  has  perished.  That  ancient 
fabric,  which  has  been  gradually  reared  by  the  wisdom  and 
virtue  of  our  forefathers,  still  stands  :  it  stands,  thanks  be  to 
God !  solid  and  entire ;  but  it  stands  alone,  and  it  stands 
amidst  ruins."  * 

*  *  *  * 

"  In  the  Court  where  we  are  now  met,  Cromwell  twice  sent 
a  satirist  on  his  tyranny  to  be  convicted  and  punished  as  a 
libeller ;  and  in  this  Court,  almost  in  sight  of  the  scaffold 
streaming  with  the  blood  of  his  sovereign  ;  within  hearing  of 
the  clash  of  his  bayonets,  which  drove  out  parliaments  with 
contumely,  two  successive  juries  rescued  the  intrepid  satirist  f 
from  his  fangs,  and  sent  out,  with  defeat  and  disgrace,  the 
Usurper's  Attorney  General  from  what  he  had  the  insolence  to 
call  his  Court!  Even  then,  Gentlemen,  when  all  law  and 
liberty  were  trampled  under  the  feet  of  a  military  banditti ; 
when  those  great  crimes  were  perpetrated  in  a  high  place,  and 
with  a  high  hand,  against  those  who  were  the  objects  of  pub- 

*  C'est  dans  ces  jours  orageux  que  je  reQus  le  plaidoyer  de  M.  Mac- 
kintosh, la  je  lus  ces  pages  ou  il  fait  le  portrait  d'un  Jacobin,  que  s'est 
montre  terrible  dans  la  revolution  contre  les  enfans,  les  vieillards,  et 
les  femmes,  et  qui  se  plie  sur  la  berge  du  corse,  qui  lui  ravit  jusqu'  a  la 
moindre  part  de  cette  liberte  pour  laquelle  il  se  pretendoit  arme.  Ce 
morc,eau  de  la  plus  belle  eloquence  m'emut  jusqu'  au  fond  de  Fame. 
Les  ecrivains  superieurs  peuvent  quelquefois,  a  leur  ins9u,  soulager  les 
infortunes,  dans  tous  les  pays,  et  dans  tous  les  temps.  La  France  se  tai- 
sait  si  profondement  autour  de  moi,  que  cette  voix,  que  tout  a  coup  re- 
pondoit  a  mon  ame,  me  sembloit  descendue  du  ciel  —  elle  venoit  d'un 
pays  libre. — Madame  de  Stael,  Dix  Annees  d'Exile,  CEuv.  Ined.  iii.  62, 3. 

t  Lilburne. 

16* 


186  LIFE    OF   THE  [1803. 

lie  veneration,  which,  more  than  any  thing  else  upon  earth, 
overwhelm  the  minds  of  men,  break  their  spirits,  and  confound 
their  moral  sentiments,  obliterate  the  distinctions  between 
right  and  wrong  in  their  understanding,  and  teach  the  multi- 
tude to  feel  no  longer  any  reverence  for  that  justice  which  they 
thus  see  triumphantly  dragged  at  the  chariot  wheels  of  a 
tyrant ;  even  then,  when  this  unhappy  country,  triumphant 
indeed  abroad,  but  enslaved  at  home,  had  no  prospect  but  that 
of  a  long  succession  of  tyrants,  wading  through  slaughter  to 
the  throne  —  even  then,  I  say,  when  all  seemed  lost,  the  un- 
conquerable spirit  of  English  liberty  survived  in  the  hearts  of 
English  jurors.  That  spirit  is,  I  trust  in  God,  not  extinct ;  and 
if  any  modern  tyrant  were,  in  the  drunkenness  of  his  insolence, 
to  hope  to  overawe  an  English  jury,  I  trust,  and  I  believe  that 
they  would  tell  him  —  our  ancestors  braved  the  bayonets  of 
Cromwell,  we  bid  defiance  to  yours.  '  Contempsi  Catalinae 
gladios  —  non  pertimescam  tuos ! ' 

"  What  could  be  such  a  tyrant's  means  of  overawing  a  jury  ? 
As  long  as  their  country  exists  they  are  girt  round  with  im- 
penetrable armour.  Till  the  destruction  of  their  country,  no 
danger  can  fall  upon  them  for  the  performance  of  their  duty  ; 
and  I  do  trust  that  there  is  no  Englishman  so  unworthy  of  life, 
as  to  desire  to  outlive  England.  But  if  any  of  us  are  condemned 
to  the  cruel  punishment  of  surviving  our  country  —  if,  in  the 
inscrutable  counsels  of  Providence,  this  favoured  seat  of  justice 
and  liberty,  this  noblest  work  of  human  wisdom  and  virtue,  be 
destined  to  destruction,  —  which  I  shah1  not  be  charged  with 
national  prejudice  for  saying,  would  be  the  most  dangerous 
wound  ever  inflicted  on  civilisation  —  at  least  let  us  carry  with 
us  into  our  sad  exile  the  consolation  that  we  ourselves  have  not 
violated  the  rights  of  hospitality  to  exiles  —  that  we  have  not 
torn  from  the  altar  the  suppliant  who  claimed  protection  as 
the  voluntary  victim  of  loyalty  and  conscience  ! " 

It  will  have  been  seen  from  one  of  the  preceding 
notes,  that  Mr.  Mackintosh's  thoughts  had  been  directed 
towards  a  professional  situation  in  either  the  East  or  West 
Indies.  Such,  indeed,  had  for  some  time  been  the  object 
of  his  wishes,  and  occasions  had  offered  when  these  seemed 


1803.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIB   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  187 

on  the  point  of  being  gratified.  At  the  erection  of  two 
Vice  Admiralty  Courts  in  the  West  Indies,  in  the  year 
1800  — jurisdictions  which  the  state  of  war  then  made  of 
much  consequence — he  had  been  offered,  and  had  almost 
determined  to  accept,  the  office  of  Judge  at  Trinidad ; 
but,  on  reflection,  had  preferred  remaining,  to  push  his 
fortunes  at  the  bar  in  this  country.  Still  earlier,  Lord 
Wellesley  had  wished  him  to  become  the  head  of  a  college 
at  Calcutta,  which  he  proposed  to  establish  on  a  large 
scale,  a  proposal  which  happened  to  fall  in  singularly 
with  the  fondness  which  Mr.  Mackintosh  always  ex- 
pressed for  an  academical  situation,  and  the  life  of  a  pro- 
fessor. This  plan  was,  however,  defeated  by  the  alarm 
which  the  Court  of  Directors  felt  as  to  its  probable  ex- 
pense. He  had  also  become  a  candidate  for  the  office  of 
Advocate-General  in  Bengal,  which  had  lately  become 
vacant,  and  to  obtain  which,  his  friend,  Mr.  Robert  Smith, 
was  already  in  the  field.  This  rivalship  never,  for  a  mo- 
ment, disturbed  their  mutual  regard  ;  and  when  it  ap- 
peared that  Mr.  Smith  had  the  best  prospect  of  success, 
his  friend  at  once  gave  up  the  contest  in  his  favour. 

It  is  not  a  little  surprising  that  his  late  successful 
appearance,  which  could  not  have  failed  to  have  extended 
his  reputation,  and  increased  what  was  already  a  very 
considerable  practice  in  particular  branches  at  the  bar,* 
does  not  seem  to  have  arrested  his  determination ;  but 
he  could  not  help  seeing  before  him,  in  the  prospect 
that  was  opening  upon  him  at  home,  a  whole  life  of 
unremitting  labour,  which  otherwise,  by  compounding 

*  As  the  most  significant  measure  of  professional  success,  it  may  be 
mentioned  that  the  returns  from  that  source,  during  the  last  year  of  his 
practice  at  the  bar,  somewhat  exceeded  1200/.  This,  considering  his 
comparatively  short  (seven  years)  standing,  and  that  his  present  was 
the  second  profession  to  which  he  had  applied  himself,  was  no  mean 
testimony  equally  to  the  vigour,  and  the  varied  nature  of  his  capacity. 


188  LIFE    OF   THE  [1803. 

for  somewhat  less  brilliant  results,  he  might  escape. 
On  the  arrival,  in  the  spring  1803,  of  the  intelligence  of 
the  death  of  Sir  William  Syer,  the  Recorder  of  Bombay, 
he  was  named  to  fill  the  vacancy.  Mr.  Addington,  the 
first  minister  of  the  crown,  had  been  made  acquainted, 
before  his  elevation  to  that  exalted  office,  with  Mr. 
Mackintosh's  wishes  in  relation  to  an  appointment  in 
India ;  these  were  now  seconded  by  the  friendly  zeal  of 
Mr.  Canning  and  Mr.  (now  the  Right  Honourable)  Wil- 
liam Adam,  to  whose  exertions  the  appointment  must  in 
a  great  degree  be  attributed. 

In  taking  this  step,  in  addition  to  the  comparative  ease 
to  which  it  immediately  admitted  him,  he  was,  no  doubt, 
much  influenced  by  the  largeness  of  the  salary,  which,  he 
believed,  in  a  few  years  might  enable  him  (as  it  would, 
if  prudence  had  been  part  of  his  nature)  to  accumulate 
a  sum  that,  in  addition  to  the  retiring  pension,  would 
render  him  independent,  give  him  the  absolute  command 
of  his  time,  and  enable  him  to  pursue  such  a  course  of 
life  as  circumstances  or  his  wishes  might  direct.  He  also 
believed  that  the  command  of  that  portion  of  his  leisure 
which  his  official  duties  left  to  him,  would  enable  him, 
during  his  residence  in  the  East,  to  enter  upon,  and  to 
complete,  some  philosophical  and  literary  projects  which 
had  long  been  floating  in  his  imagination,  and  the  execu- 
tion of  which,  he  thought,  were  easily  within  his  reach. 
Had  either  of  these  objects  been  attained,  they  might 
have  counterbalanced  the  sacrifice,  of  which  he  had  not 
as  yet  calculated  the  extent,  implied  in  his  leaving 
London  —  its  society,  literary  and  political,  and  his  nu- 
merous friends. 

One  effect  of  this  appointment  he  might  have  been 
excused  in  not  foreseeing ;  —  that  the  acceptance  of  a 
strictly  professional  situation,  of  such  modest  pretensions, 
would  have  exposed  him  to  any  observations,  from  minds 


1803.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR    JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  189 

of  whatever  vulgarity,  levelled  at  the  independence  of  his 
political  opinions  —  him  who,  if  he  had  been  willing  to 
join  Mr.  Pitt's  party  (which,  from  a  coincidence  of  opin- 
ion on  some  points,  would  by  no  means  have  been  a  vio- 
lent outrage  upon  conscience),  need  not  have  gone  across 
the  globe  for  station  and  emolument  *  —  who  lived,  as 
we  shall  see,  voluntarily  to  forego  both,  when  offered 
from  the  representatives  of  Mr.  Pitt's  politics,  and  to  illus- 
trate in  his  life,  perhaps  as  much  as  anybody,  the  virtue 
of  political  fidelity,  and  the  measure  of  party  gratitude. 
On  this  occasion,  it  was  his  success  that  was 'probably 
most  in  fault.  "  Many  good  party  men,"  one  of  his 
friends  observed  to  him,  "  who  are  in  professions,  and  do 
not  rise,  find  a  pleasant  mode  of  accounting  for  their 
failure  by  their  political  principles ;  and  it  is  allowable 
for  such  men,  who  lay  the  flattering  unction  to  their 
soul,  that  their  political  importance,  and  not  their  pro- 
fessional incapacity,  stands  in  the  way  of  their  promotion, 
to  vent  their  spleen  on  those  who,  in  their  judgment, 
ought  to  be  in  the  same  predicament."  Many  excellent 
friends,  also,  both  private  and  political,  were,  as  was 
natural,  disposed  to  regret  any  appointment,  which,  al- 
though they  allowed  it  to  be  professional,  necessarily 
deprived  them,  for  a  long  prospective  period,  of  the  en- 
joyment and  advantage  of  abilities  which  were  so  un- 
common ;  and,  under  this  point  of  view,  his  removal  to 
India,  while  it  was  a  loss  to  the  opposition,  was  certainly 
incidentally  desirable  to  the  Government. 

*  ["  Jane,  Duchess  of  Gordon,  who,  at  that  time,  had  considerable 
influence  in  Scottish  affairs,  and  was  intimate  with  Pitt  and  Dundas, 
told  me  that  she  had  in  vain  tried  all  her  persuasive  powers,  and 
they  were  not  small,  to  detach  him  (Mr.  M.)  from  his  party.  I  took 
the  liberty  to  observe  to  her  Grace,  that  I  was  well  acquainted  with 
him,  and  knew  that  his  politics  were  his  principles."  —  Major  Gordon 
to  the  Editor. 


190  LIFE   OF   THE  [1803. 

In  the  novelty  of  the  prospect  which  now  opened 
upon  him,  he  discovered  much  that  promised  interest  for 
the  future,  while  the  present  moment  was  sufficiently 
engaged  in  making  preparations  for  his  departure.  He 
collected  all  the  books  that  he  could  find  relating  to 
every  part  of  India,  and  completed,  as  far  as  lay  in  his 
power,  his  philosophical  collection,  which  was  very 
curious,  and,  among  other  articles,  contained  nearly  a 
complete  set  of  the  schoolmen. 

The  interval  before  his  departure,  which  the  untimely 
illness  of  his  wife  occasioned  to  be  delayed,  was  devoted 
to  visiting  and  receiving  the  visits  of  his  numerous  friends 
and  relations,  who  were  all  anxious  to  show  him  the  last 
marks  of  respect  before  he  set  out  for  his  distant  resi- 
dence. Some  months  were  spent  at  Tenby,  on  the  Pem- 
brokeshire coast,  near  which  is  Cresselly,  Mr.  Allen's 
residence.  "  We  were  a  large  family  party,"  says  one 
who  formed  part  of  it,  "  collected  to  pass  as  much  of  our 
time  together,  before  the  departure  of  Mackintosh  and 
his  family  for  India,  as  circumstances  would  allow  of. 
It  was  a  delightful  autumn.  A  little  memorandum  of 
M.'s,  that  I  saw  many  years  afterwards,  mentions  this 
time  as  one  of  the  happiest  of  his  life.  He  made  the 
delight  and  joy  of  our  circle ;  his  spirits  were  gay,  no 
care. oppressed  him,  and  his  anticipations  of  the  future 
had  all  the  brightness  of  early  hope.  I  returned  with 
them  to  their  house  in  Guildford  Street,  and  remained 
with  them  till  they  sailed  for  India ;  and  this  portion 
of  his  life  I  might  note  down  as  the  happiest  of  mine. 
I  cannot  conceive  any  society  superior  to  that  which 
I  partook  of  under  his  roof.  He  collected  generally, 
twice  a  week,  small  evening  parties,  consisting  of  his 
particular  friends ;  and  the  same  society  met  also  another 
evening  at  Mr.  Sydney  Smith's.  The  regular  members 
were,  Mr.  Homer,  Mr.  Rogers,  the  Rev.  Sydney  Smith, 


1804.]  EIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  191 

Sir  James  Scarlett,  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence,  Mr.  Hoppner, 
Mr.  Sharp,  Colonel  Sloper  and  his  daughter*  —  the  kind- 
est and  best  of  his  friends.  These  social  meetings  left  so 
delightful  an  impression  on  the  minds  of  all  those  who 
composed  them,  that  many  plans  were  formed,  even 
some  years  afterwards,  to  renew  them  on  his  return  to 
England  ;  but,  alas  !  no  pleasure  is  renewed." 

It  was  not  till  the  beginning  of  the  next  year  (1804), 
that  Sir  James  (he  had  on  his  appointment  received 
the  honour  of  Knighthood)  found  himself  and  family  at 
Ryde,  in  the  Isle  of  Wight,  from  whence  he  was  to  em- 
bark. From  this  place  he  wrote  to  many  of  his  friends, 
renewing  his  adieus.  Of  these  letters,  one  addressed  to 
M.  Gentz  —  with  whom  he  kept  as  regular  a  correspond- 
ence as  the  state  of  war  would  allow  —  enters  at  some 
length  into  the  state  of  his  own  feelings,  and  of  his  opin- 
ions upon  the  prospects,  at  that  eventful  period,  of  the 
country  which  he  was  quitting;  —  one  or  two  others 
follow  it  to  familiar  friends. 

"  Ryde,  Isle  of  Wight,  Feb.  5th,  1804. 

"You  will  see,  my  excellent  friend,  that  you  are 
in  my  thoughts  in  the  last  moments  of  my  European 
existence.  I  am  now  waiting  at  this  village,  which 
is  opposite  to  Portsmouth,  in  hourly  expectation  of 
the  ship  which  is  to  convey  me  far  from  those  scenes 
of  civilisation  and  literature,  in  which  I  once,  in  the 
fond  ambition  of  youth,  dreamt  that  I  might  perhaps 
have  acted  a  considerable  part.  Experience  has  re- 
pressed my  ambition ;  the  cares  and  duties  of  a  family 
oblige  me  to  seek  the  means  of  providing  for  them  in 
other  climates  — 

'  subiit  deserta  Creusa, 


Et  direpta  domus,  et  parvi  casus  Juli.' 
*  Since  Mrs.  Charles  "Warren. 


192  LIFE    OF   THE  [1804. 

and  reason  informs  me  that  there  is  no  country  in  which 
I  may  not  discharge  a  part  of  the  debt  which  I  owe  to 
mankind.  I  do  not,  however,  affect  to  leave  my  country 
without  pain  ;  but  I  find  an  honourable  and  substantial 
consolation  in  the  recollection  of  those  honourable  and 
distinguished  persons,  who  have  honoured  me  with  their 
friendship.  Among  these  you  very  deservedly  hold  a 
very  high  place.  Your  letter  of  the  12th  of  October  I 
have  frequently  read  with  instruction,  with  admiration, 
and,  as  far  as  it  relates  to  myself,  with  pride.*  I  thought 
it  my  duty  that  so  important  a  document  should  be  put 
into  the  hands  of  those  who  have  the  power  of  converting 
the  valuable  suggestions  which  it  contains  to  national 
use.  I  believe  that  all  the  Ministers  have  read  it ;  I 
know  that  A has,  for  he  spoke  of  it  with  the  admira- 
tion which  every  man  must  feel  on  the  perusal,  and  with 
the  gratitude  which  every  Englishman  must  feel  for  the 
author.  Whether  they  will  profit  by  your  counsel,  is 

*  ["  Mais  je  n'en  suis  pas  moins  douloureusement  affecte*  de  1'idee 
de  vous  voir,  pour  ainsi  dire,  disparoitre  de  la  sphere  dans  laquelle  je 
vous  ai  vu  operer  si  bien  jusqu'ici,  qui  a  un  si  grand  besoin  d'hommes 
de  votre  trempe,  et  qui  a  si  avantageusement  eprouve  dans  plus  d'une 
occasion  essentielle  1'influence  bienfaisante  de  vos  rares  lumieres  et  de 
vos  talens  distingues.  II  seroit  tres-deplace"  et  tres  ridicule  de  ma  part 
de  vous  encenser  de  quelques  ste"riles  hommages,  si  ce  que  je  vous  dis 
ici  ne  sortait  pas  du  fond  de  mon  ame,  et  de  la  conviction  la  plus  intime 
et  la  plus  complete.  J'ai  vu  en  Angleterre  un  assez  grand  nombre 
d'hommes  parfaitement  estimables ;  j'en  ai  vu  quelques  uns  de  tres 
superieurs  ;  mais  je  vous  avoue  franchement  que  je  n'en  ai  trouve" 
aucun,  qui  reunisse  a  des  connoissances  aussi  etendues  et  aussi  variees 
que  les  votres,  un  coup  d'oeil  general  e'galement  vaste  et  egalement 
remarquable  par  sa  justesse.  Je  n'oublierai  de  ma  vie,  deux  ou  trois 
conversations  que  j'ai  cues  avec  vous,  et  qui  m'ont  donne  sur  plusieurs 
objets  de  la  plus  haute  importance,  et  entr'autres  sur  la  place  que  votre 
nation  occupe  proprement  dans  1'ordre  moral  et  politique,  des  appe^us 
plus  lumineux,  et  des  renseignemens  plus  satisfaisans,  que  sont  ce  que 
j'ai  jamais  trouve  dans  aucun  livre,  ni  dans  aucune  source  d'instruction 
quelconque.  —  Extract  from  the  Letter  of  M.  Gentz. 


1804.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  193 

a  question  which  I  am  unable  to  answer,  and  with  respect 
to  which  I  am  fearful,  even  in  encouraging  hopes,  that  the 
decision  will  be  what  I  am  convinced  it  ought  to  be. 

"  Respecting  the  present  and  future  danger  of  my 
country,  and  of  all  Europe,  I  have  gone  through  pre- 
cisely the  same  revolution  of  sentiment  with  you.  The 
immediate  result  of  invasion  I  certainly  dread  much  less 
than  I  did  in  summer.  Of  the  volunteer  system,  as  a 
means  of  defence,  I  do  not  think  highly.  Considering 
that  it  is  calculated  to  call  out  into  service  the  most 
wealthy,  respectable,  and  unwarlike  classes,  and  to  leave 
unemployed  the  idle,  the  profligate,  the  needy,  and  the 
robust,  it  seems  to  me  that  it  may  shortly  be  described 
as  an  unfortunate  contrivance  for  taking  the  maximum 
of  pacific  industry,  for  the  sake  of  adding  the  minimum 
to  military  strength.  Under  its  operation,  London  now 
exhibits  a  spectacle  which  is  a  real  inversion  of  the  order 
of  society.  Lawyers,*  physicians,  merchants,  and  manu- 
facturers are  serving  as  private  soldiers,  while  hackney- 
coachmen  and  porters  are  pursuing  their  ordinary  occu- 
pations. At  the  same  time  I  am  bound  in  candour  to 
add,  that  when  I  transport  myself  back  to  the  month  of 
July,  I  can  neither  wonder  nor  blame  the  adoption  of  the 
system ;  nor  do  I  even  know  of  any  immediate  substitute 
for  it,  though  I  cannot  but  wish  that  such  a  substitute 
were  found.  But  of  this  system,  compared  as  a  test 
and  symptom  of  the  general  sentiment,  I  think  with 
unmixed  pleasure ;  and  perhaps  no  other  measure  could 
have  so  forcibly  shown  the  perfect  soundness  of  men's 
affections  towards  their  country.  The  state  of  public 
feeling  is,  I  trust,  a  sufficient  security  against  present 

*  Mr.  Mackintosh  himself  had  been  enrolled  in  the  "  Loyal  North 
Britons,"  a  volunteer  corps  of  Scottish  residents  in  the  Metropolis. 
VOL.  I.  17 


194  LIFE    OF    THE  [1804. 

danger;  but  from  the  contemplation  of  the  future,  I  own 
I  shrink  with  terror.  He  must  be  much  wiser,  or  much 
more  foolish  than  I  am  who  does  not.  I  see  no  escape  for 
Europe,  unless  the  powers  of  the  Continent  are  roused  by 
the  course  of  circumstances  to  a  spontaneous  coalition  in 
their  own  defence.  I  see  no  prospect  of  such  an  union, 
and,  alas !  I  see  no  certainty  of  its  success.  I  always 
believed  our  ignorance  of  continental  politics  to  be  as 
gross  as  you  represent  it  to  be  :  but  you  must  not  judge 
from  newspapers  or  from  speeches  in  Parliament.  News- 
writers  know  too  little,  and  Ministers  know,  or  ought  to 
know,  too  much  to  speak  the  truth,  But  this  country  is 
no  soil  for  diplomatic  talents ;  our  virtues  and  our  vices 
are  equally  unfavourable  to  the  growth  of  that  sort  of 
skill,  and  our  popular  constitution  attracts  all  our  rising 
genius  to  the  cultivation  of  eloquence,  and  of  those  abili- 
ties which  shine  in  great  assemblies,  leaving  only  the 
secondary  minds  to  the  obscure  and  inglorious  intrigues 
and  details  of  diplomacy.  I  wish  that  we  were  less 
arrogant,  and  less  shy,  if  there  were  no  danger  of  our 
becoming,  by  the  same  process,  less  honest.  I  cannot 
wish  that  we  were  less  free,  and  I  ought  not  to  forget 
that  wishing  is  not  the  occupation  of  wise  men. 

"  I  do  not  go  to  India  with  much  expectation  of 
approving  the  policy  recently  adopted  for  our  ill-gotte% 
but  well-governed,  Asiatic  empire.  That  empire,  acquired 
not  by  any  plan  of  ambition  conceived  at  home,  but  by  the 
accidents  of  fortune,  the  courage,  the  fears,  the  vigour,  the 
despair,  and  the  crimes  of  individual  adventurers,  is  cer- 
tainly better  administered  than  any  other  territory  in  Asia 
(I  really  know  not  whether  I  ought  or  ought  not  to  except 
China).  The  conquest  arose  from  the  character  of  the 
adventurers,  and  the  tempting  anarchy  of  Hindostan. 
The  administration  flows  from  the  character  of  the 


1804.]  RIGHT  HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  195 

government  and  people  of  England.  With  the  close  of 
Hastings'  Government,  the  revolutionary  period  of  our 
Indian  Government  naturally  closed.  The  moderate 
temper  of  Lord  Cornwallis  answered  the  purpose  of 
wisdom,  and  we  adopted  those  maxims  of  justice  which 
are  the  obvious  interest  of  every  permanently  established 
government. 

*  *  *  * 

u  I  feel  an  extraordinary  eagerness  to  read  your  Disser- 
tation on  the  Sovereignty  of  the  People ;  it  is  a  subject 
on  which  I  have  thought  a  great  deal,  and  which  will  be  a 
principal  part  of  my  intended  work  on  Morals  and  Politics, 
which  I  consider  as  the  final  cause  of  my  existence.  For 
God's  sake  do  not  deprive  me  of  the  lights  which  must 
issue  from  such  an  understanding  as  yours. 

"  I  hope  you  read  the  Edinburgh  Review :  it  is  far  the 
best  of  our  periodical  publications.  It  is  charged  with 
severity :  but  the  accusation  is  most  loudly  made  by  bad 
writers  and  their  stupid  admirers.  For  my  part,  I  am  not 
displeased  to  see  the  laws  of  the  republic  of  letters  enforced 
with  some  vigour  against  delinquents,  who  have  too  long 
enjoyed  a  scandalous  impunity. 

"  After  having  written  so  long  a  letter,  I  am  afraid  to 
trust  myself  with  the  subject  of  Burke.  Of  all  human 
beings,  the  joint  praise  of  wisdom  and  genius  seems  to  me 
most  to  belong  to  him,  in  all  the  force  and  extent  of 
these  two  energetic  and  comprehensive  words.  In  his 
mind  was,  I  think,  united  the  heroic  vigour  of  a  semi- 
barbarous,  with  the  meditation  and  compass  of  a  civilised 
age.  *  Multum  ille  in  sapientia  civili  profecisse  se  sciat, 
cui  Burkius  valde  placebit.'  In  you,  my  excellent  friend, 
I  discover  that,  as  well  as  every  other  proof  of  thorough 
mastery  of  the  true  principles  of  civil  wisdom.  Go  on  to 
instruct  and  to  animate  the  world.  Serve  mankind,  if 


196  LIFE    OF   THE  [1804. 

they  are  to  be  served.    At  all  events,  discharge  your  own 
conscience,  and  increase  your  glory.     Do  not  forget 
"  Your  sincere  friend, 

"  JAMES  MACKINTOSH. 

"  I  earnestly  entreat  you  to  write  to  me  three  or  four 
times  a  year.  Such  information  and  reflections  as  India 
can  afford,  you  will  certainly  have.  It  is  a  poor  return 
for  the  treasures  of  Europe ;  but  India,  you  know,  has 
always  purchased,  by  her  fantastic  luxuries,  the  precious 
metals  of  the  West." 


"TO   RICHARD    SHARP,   ESQ. 

"Ryde,  3lst  Jan.  1804. 

"  MY  DEAR  SHARP,  —  I  cannot  refrain  from  reminding 
you  again,  that  you  have  an  opportunity  of  giving  real 
pleasure  to  two  people,  who  have  as  much  esteem  and 
affection  for  you  as  it  is  easy  to  feel  for  a  human  being. 
I  must  be  desirous  of  the  company  of  one  whom  I  have 
never  quitted  without  feeling  myself  better,  and  in  better 
humour  with  the  world.  I  owe  much  to  your  society : 
your  conversation  has  not  only  pleased  and  instructed  me, 
but  it  has  most  materially  contributed  to  refine  my  taste, 
to  multiply  my  innocent  and  independent  pleasures,  and 
to  make  my  mind  tranquil  and  reasonable.  I  think  you 
have  produced  more  effect  on  my  character  than  any  other 
man  with  whom  I  have  lived ;  and  I  reflect  on  that  cir- 
cumstance with  satisfaction,  for  I  am  sure  that  all  the 
change  so  produced  must  be  good.  It  is  a  gratification  to 
me  to  have  spoken  so  much  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart, 
But  I  am  most  desirous  that  my  wishes  should  not  induce 
you  to  do  what  might  be  really  inconvenient  to  yourself. 
It  is  only  on  condition  of  its  proving  at  least  tolerably 


1804.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  197 

convenient,  that  I  feel  myself  at  liberty  to  indulge  the 
hope  of  seeing  you  on  Friday  or  Saturday.  It  is  needless 
for  me  to  repeat,  that  I  shall  be  very  glad  if  you  can 
prevail  on  Sydney  Smith  or  Homer  to  accompany  you. 
Adieu. 

"  Ever  yours,  most  affectionately, 

"JAMES  MACKINTOSH." 

"TO  GEORGE  PHILIPS,  ESQ.* 

"Ryde,  Isle  of  Wight,  3rd  Feb.  1804. 

"  DEAR  PHILIPS,  —  The  motions  of  the  wind,  which  I 
observe  in  a  weathercock,  placed  on  a  little  chapel  just 
opposite  to  me,  admonish  me  that  the  ship  may  soon 
come  here,  which  is  to  bear  me  far  from  my  friends  and 
my  country.  The  same  circumstance  reminds  me  that  I 
have  still  some  duties  of  friendship  to  perform.  Allow 
me,  therefore,  without  any  other  apology  for  delay  than 
what  my  situation  and  your  good  nature  will  suggest,  to 
thank  you,  before  I  go,  for  all  your  kindness,  and  particu- 
larly for  your  communication  from  London  in  September. 
I  was  delighted  to  discover  a  new  talent  in  my  friend;  and 
I  do  assure  you  I  was  also  pleased,  in  a  very  great  degree, 
with  many  parts  of  the  poem.  The  description  recals 
Windermere  to  my  fancy,  in  the  Isle  of  Wight ;  and  the 
descriptive  style  is  chaste  and  severe.  I  read  the  address 
to  our  invaluable  friend,  with  various  feelings,  sometimes 
disposed  to  be  fastidious,  as  if  nothing  could  be  good 
enough  for  the  subject,  and  at  other  tunes  willing  to 
think  any  thing  excellent  in  which  truth  was  spoken  of 
him.  You  must  allow  me  to  observe  that  one  verse, 

'  Free  from  all  vice,  though  in  the  city  bred,' 
*  Now  Sir  George  Philips,  Bart.,  of  Weston,  Warwickshire. 

17* 


198  LIFE    OF   THE  [1804. 

might  furnish  a  handle  to  some  wags  of  the  west  end  of 
the  town  to  laugh  at  the  city  morality.  At  Manchester, 
you  naturally  oppose  city  to  country;  but  in  London,  it  is 
more  natural  to  oppose  it  to  Westminster.  Excuse  me  if 
I  add,  that  the  moral  and  satirical  part  of  the  poem 
might,  in  my  opinion,  be  abridged  with  advantage.  I  do 
not  object  to  the  acrimony  with  which  your  Arcadian 
moralists  have,  at  least  since  the  time  of  Virgil,  abused  us 
men  of  the  town.  It  may,  perhaps,  be  necessary  to  relieve 
the  dulness  of  your  pastoral  life.  But  I  require  from  you 
absolutely,  that  you  atone  to  us  for  your  abuse  by  extra- 
ordinary excellence,  or  novelty,  or  brevity.  If  I  had  now 
more  leisure,  and  above  all,  if  I  were  by  your  ear,  I 
should  venture  many  other  criticisms  of  detail,  from 
which  I  must  now  abstain. 

"  If  your  fancy  be  inclined  to  ramble  towards  the  east, 
I  advise  you,  the  first  time  you  come  to  London,  to  spend 
a  morning  at  Daniells'  in  Howland-street,  where  you  will 
see  a  set  of  pictures,  that  may  well  be  considered  as  the 
representative  of  all  the  scenery,  architecture,  &c.,  of 
India,  from  Thibet  to  Cape  Comorin.  The  old  voyagers 
are  always  more  picturesque  and  poetical  than  the 
modern  :  they  describe  those  simple  appearances,  which 
we  now  suppose  to  be  known.  Harris,  Churchill,  and 
Astley's  Collections,  will  furnish  you  with  great  abundance 
of  Indian  imagery. 

"  I  hope  your  heart,  as  well  as  your  imagination,  will 
sometimes  stray  eastward.  For  my  part,  I  shall  often 
think  of  Manchester.  Write  to  me  at  Bombay; — an 
European  letter  will  there  be  a  great  luxury  (I  can 
honestly  say) — especially  one  from  you.  Sharp  (whom 
I  expect  here  to-morrow  morning)  will  convey  letters 
to  me. 

"Catharine  joins  me  in  best  and  most  affectionate 


1804.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR    JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  199 

remembrances  to  Mrs.  Philips  and  yourself;  and  I  ever 
am, 

"  Dear  Philips, 

"  Yours,  most  affectionately, 

"JAMES  MACKINTOSH." 


The  sentiments  with  which  his  departure  was  viewed 
by  his  more  intimate  friends,  may  be  judged  of  by  the 
following  expressions,  in  a  letter  from  Francis  Homer 
to  Mr.  William  Erskine,  dated  London,  4th  Feb.  1804. 
"  Give  my  respects  to  Sir  James  and  Lady  Mackintosh 
when  you  see  them.  I  never  pretended  to  express  to 
either  of  them  my  sense  of  the  great  kindness  they  have 
shown  me  since  I  came  to  London,  because  I  could  not 
express  it  adequately.  I  shall  ever  feel  it  with  gratitude, 
if  I  am  good  for  any  thing.  To  Mackintosh,  indeed,  my 
obligations  are  of  a  far  higher  order  than  those  even  of 
the  kindest  hospitality :  he  has  been  an  intellectual  master 
to  me,  and  has  enlarged  my  prospects  into  the  wide 
regions  of  moral  speculation,  more  than  any  other  tutor 
I  have  ever  had  in  the  art  of  thinking ;  I  cannot  even 
except  Dugald  Stewart,  to  whom  I  once  thought  I  owed 
more  than  I  could  ever  receive  from  another.  Had 
Mackintosh  remained  in  England,  I  should  have  pos- 
sessed, ten  years  hence,  powers  and  views  which  now  are 
beyond  my  reach.  I  never  left  his  conversation  but  I  felt 
a  mixed  consciousness,  as  it  were,  of  inferiority  and  capa- 
bility ;  and  I  have  now  and  then  flattered  myself  with 
the  feeling,  as  if  it  promised  that  I  might  make  something 
of  myself.  I  cannot  think  of  all  this  without  being  me- 
lancholy ;  l  ostendent  tantum  fata,  neque  ultra.' " 

From  the  companion  of  his  early  studies,  and  the 
friend  of  his  more  mature  age,  he  received  an  expression 
of  that  interest  in  his  future  fate,  which  the  critical  step 


200  LIFE    OF    THE  [1804. 

he  was  now  taking  for  advancing  his  fortunes,  naturally 
suggested. 

"  Shefford,  near  Cambridge,  30th  Dec.  1803. 

"  MY  DEAR  SIR, — Understanding  by  the  public  papers 
that  you  purpose  soon  to  sail  for  India,  I  cannot  refrain 
from  troubling  you  with  a  line,  to  express  my  sincere 
and  ardent  wishes  for  your  welfare.  Though  the  course 
of  events  has  directed  us  into  very  different  paths,  and 
destined  me  to  obscurity  and  you  to  eminence,  this 
circumstance  has  never,  in  the  smallest  degree,  abated 
those  sentiments  of  gratitude  and  esteem,  which  are 
indelibly  impressed  on  my  heart.  You  have  ever  shown 
me  tokens  of  disinterested  friendship ;  and  the  favour- 
able manner  in  which  you  have  spoken  of  my  small  pub- 
lications, I  have  always  imputed,  in  a  great  measure,  to 
the  partiality  arising  from  early  acquaintance.  Accept 
my  best  thanks  for  the  l  Trial  of  Peltier,'  which  I  read, 
as  far  as  your  part  in  it  is  concerned,  with  the  highest 
delight  and  instruction.  I  speak  my  sincere  sentiments 
when  I  say,  it  is  the  most  extraordinary  assemblage  of 
whatever  is  most  refined  in  address,  profound  in  moral 
and  political  speculation,  and  masterly  in  eloquence,  it 
has  ever  been  my  lot  to  read  in  the  English  language.  I 
am  not  surprised  at  the  unbounded  applause  it  met  with, 
nor  that  the  government  should  think  it  high  time  to 
turn  their  attention  to  its  author ;  though,  I  confess,  I 
am  surprised  that  a  great  empire  can  furnish  no  scene 
of  honour  and  rewards  for  men  of  genius  (a  race  always 
sufficiently  rare,  and  now  almost  extinct),  without  send- 
ing them  to  its  remotest  provinces.  It  seems  to  me  to 
betray  a  narrowness  of  mind  in  the  persons  who  compose 
the  administration ;  as  if,  while  they  felt  the  necessity  of 
rewarding,  they  were  not  fond  of  the  vicinity  of  superior 
talent.  May  God  Almighty,  however,  preserve  and  bless 


1804.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR    JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  201 

you  wherever  you  go,  and  make  your  way  prosperous  ! 
You  will  have  an  opportunity  of  contemplating  society 
under  a  totally  different  form  from  that  which  it  wears 
here,  and  of  tracing  the  nature  and  effects  of  institutions 
moral  and  religious,  whose  origin  lies  concealed  in  the 
remotest  antiquity.  Allow  me  to  hope  that  you  will 
tread  in  the  steps  of  Sir  William  Jones,  and  employ  talents 
which,  in  originality  and  vigour,  are  decidedly  superior 
even  to  his,  in  tracing  the  vestiges  of  divine  truth,  and 
confirming  the  evidence  of  revelation.  You  will  excuse 
me  if  I  add,  that  the  praise  of  great  talents  results  from 
their  use ;  that  the  more  any  one  has  received  from  the 
Lord  of  all,  the  greater  is  his  responsibility ;  and  that, 
as  the  interests  of  this  world  are  momentary,  it  is  our 
truest  wisdom  to  seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God  and  his 
righteousness. 

"  May  I  take  the  liberty,  before  I  close,  of  recommend- 
ing to  your  attention  a  young  gentleman  of  the  name  of 
Rich,  who  is  going  out  in  the  same  fleet  with  you,  as  a 
cadet,*  to  Bombay.  He  is  of  Bristol,  where  I  had  the 
pleasure  lately  of  seeing  him.  He  is  a  most  extraordinary 
young  man.  With  little  or  no  assistance  he  has  made 
himself  acquainted  with  many  languages,  particularly 
with  the  languages  of  the  East.  Besides  Latin,  Greek, 
and  many  of  the  modern  languages,  he  has  made  himself 
master  of  the  Hebrew,  Chaldee,  Persian,  Arabic,  and  is 
not  without  some  knowledge  of  the  Chinese,  which  he 
began  to  decipher  when  he  was  but  fourteen.  He  is  now 
seventeen.  He  has  long  had  a  most  vehement  desire  to 
go  to  India,  with  the  hope  of  being  able  to  indulge  his 
passion  for  eastern  literature ;  and,  after  many  difficulties, 

*  In  consequence  of  the  change  from  a  military  to  a  civil  appoint- 
ment, Mr.  R.  did  not  go  to  India  at  that  time,  but  was  ordered  to  join, 
as  secretary,  Mr.  Lock,  his  Majesty's  Consul-General  in  Egypt,  then  at 
Malta,  on  his  way  to  his  post. 


202  LIFE   OF   THE  [1804. 

has  at  length  succeeded  in  being  appointed  to  the  situa- 
tion of  cadet.  He  is  a  young  man  of  good  family,  and 
of  most  engaging  person  and  address.  His  name,  I 
believe  I  mentioned  before,  is  Kich.  If  it  is  consistent 
with  your  views  to  honour  him  with  your  countenance, 
he  will  not,  I  am  almost  certain,  give  you  any  reason 
to  repent  of  your  kindness  and  condescension. 

"  May  God  take  you,  my  dear  sir,  under  his  immediate 
care  and  keeping,  preserve  you  long,  and  restore  [you] 
in  due  time,  to  be  an  ornament  and  blessing  to  your 
native  country,  is  the  sincere  prayer  of, 

"  Your  obliged  friend  and  servant, 

«R.  HALL. 

"  P.  S.  Please  to  present  my  respectful  compliments 
to  Mrs.  Mackintosh,  wishing  her  and  you  every  possible 
blessing,  for  time  and  eternity." 

The  wind,  for  some  time  adverse,  having  become  fair, 
and  the  "  Winchelsea,"  Captain  Campbell,  in  which  he 
was  to  sail,  having  come  round  from  the  river,  on  Sunday, 
February  13th,  Sir  James  and  his  family  embarked  on 
board ;  and  before  the  close  of  the  following  day  the 
shores  of  England  were  fast  fading  from  his  view. 


1804.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  203 


CHAPTER  V. 

VOYAGE  —  ARRIVAL   AT    BOMBAY  —  FIRST    IMPRESSIONS  —  STATE    OF    SOCIETY  — 

LETTERS    TO    MR.  SHARP MR.  JOHN  ALLEN FOUNDS  A  LITERARY  SOCIETY 

JOURNAL  —  LETTERS  TO  MR.  SHARP,  MR.  HALL,  MR.  PHILIPS,  PROFESSOR 
STEWART  —  DEATH  OF  THE  MARQUIS  CORNWALLIS  —  LETTER  TO  MR.  FLAX- 
MAN  —  STATE  OF  THE  RECORDER'S  COURT. 

BESIDES  Sir  James's  family,  which  consisted  of  him- 
self, his  wife,  his  five  daughters,  a  governess  and  servants, 
the  "Winchelsea"  carried  several  officers  and  recruits, 
going  to  join  their  regiments  in  India,  and  a  few  cadets. 
The  whole  party  were  fortunate  in  the  captain  with 
whom  they  sailed.  Captain  Campbell  was  a  brave  and 
intelligent  officer,  of  a  manly  independent  character,  who 
secured  the  affection  of  all  under  his  care,  by  his 
unwearied  attention  to  their  feelings  and  their  comfort. 
Sir  James  was  fond  of  the  sea,  which  always  had  a 
favourable  effect  on  his  health  and  spirits.  Great  as 
was  the  change  from  the  tenor  of  his  former  life,  his 
delightful  flow  of  spirits  never  forsook  him.  His  first 
care,  next  to  his  tender  and  assiduous  attention  to  Lady 
Mackintosh,  who  suffered  from  illness  during  a  part  of  the 
passage,  was  directed  to  the  instruction  of  his  children. 
He  allowed  no  duty  to  interfere  with  this.  Besides 
the  more  varied  instructions  which  their  mother  took  a 
pleasure  in  affording,  he  regularly  read  with  them  some 
book  of  English  literature,  particularly  the  poetical  works 
of  Milton,  and  the  papers  of  the  Spectator,  written  by 
Addison, — an  author,  of  whose  genius  he  was  a  warm 
admirer,  and  whom  he  placed  for  amenity  of  style,  for 
easy  polite  humour,  for  his  delineations  of  common  life 


204  LIFE    OF   THE  [1804. 

and  character,  and  for  his  popular  disquisitions  on  taste 
and  morals,  at  the  head  of  all  our  English  writers.  He 
never  intermitted  his  own  readings,  which  were  directed 
to  most  subjects  of  human  curiosity,  except  the  mathe- 
matical and  the  natural  sciences.  He  had  on  board  his 
excellent  library,  and  he  employed  many  hours  daily  in 
running  over  or  studying  the  works  he  had  recently  added 
to  it ;  but  always  intermingling  some  classical  writers  of 
ancient  or  modern  tunes ;  a  practice,  from  which,  in  no 
circumstances,  did  he  ever  deviate.  In  the  course  of  the 
voyage  he  availed  himself  of  the  leisure  which  he  pos- 
sessed, and  of  the  assistance  of  his  daughter's  governess, 
a  young  German  lady,  to  study  the  German  tongue, 
some  acquaintance  with  which  he  had  gained  several  years 
before.  By  vigorous  application,  he  now  became  a  pro- 
ficient, not  only  in  the  poetical,  but  in  the  philosophical 
idiom  of  that  opulent  language,  a  circumstance  of  the 
greatest  service  to  him  in  pursuing  his  subsequent 
metaphysical  inquiries  into  the  history  of  German  phi- 
losophy. He  also  paid  more  attention  to  Italian  literature 
than  he  ever  before  had  leisure  to  do  ;  a  natural  conse- 
quence of  which  was,  that  it  rose  considerably  in  his 
estimation. 

In  him,  as  in  many  others  whose  acquirements  have 
been  remarkable,  was  always  observable  a  happy  talent 
of  turning  conversation  with  others,  upon  topics  upon 
which  they  are  most  familiar.  Thus,  by  conversing  with 
the  officers  of  the  ship  during  his  hours  of  relaxation,  he 
was  observed  to  acquire  a  very  correct  acquaintance  with 
the  names  and  uses  of  the  different  parts  of  the  ship  and 
its  tackle,  as  well  as  of  the  general  principles  of  sailing 
and  of  seamanship.  He  took  his  share,  with  a  good- 
natured  readiness,  in  all  the  duties  allotted  to  him  during 
the  voyage.  On  Sundays,  whenever  the  weather  per- 
mitted, a  church  was  rigged  out  upon  the  quarter-deck ; 


1804.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  205 

and,  at  Captain  Campbell's  desire,  he  read  the  service 
from  the  Book  of  Common  Prayer,  to  the  whole  ship's 
company,  in  a  simple  and  impressive  style.  It  is  a  great 
mistake  to  suppose  that  the  minds  of  our  sailors  (however 
boisterous  and  rude  their  manners  may  be)  have  any 
tendency  to  irreligion.  Indeed,  the  tendency,  naturally 
generated  by  their  situation,  is  rather  to  the  opposite 
extreme  of  superstition.  It  will  be  found  that  they  are 
always  fond  of  religious  services,  where  they  respect,  and 
are  not  in  a  state  of  hostility  with,  the  reader.  In  this 
instance,  the  satisfaction  of  the  lowest  sailors  was  evident, 
not  only  from  their  deportment  during  the  service,  but 
from  their  eager  readiness  to  fit  up  the  church,  and  their 
evident  disappointment  when  any  roughness  of  the 
weather,  or  other  cause,  interfered  with  it.  As  the  war 
then  raged,  and  as  the  French  admiral,  Linois,  and  his 
cruisers  infested  the  Indian  seas  but  too  successfully, 
every  person  on  board  had  some  duty  assigned  to  him, 
connected  with  the  defence  of  the  ship  ;  and  Sir  James 
was  placed  at  the  head  of  a  party  of  pikemen,  composed 
chiefly  of  passengers,  who  were  to  oppose  any  attempt 
of  the  enemy  to  board.  The  alarm  occasioned  by  the 
appearance  of  suspicious  sails,  summoned  him  repeatedly 
to  his  post  at  some  periods  of  the  voyage,  particularly  in 
running  through  the  Mozambique  channel. 

Into  the  few  amusements  which  the  limited  society  of 
an  Indiaman  affords,  he  entered  with  every  appearance  of 
perfect  ease  and  enjoyment;  and  by  his  wit,  his  gaiety, 
and  constant  activity  of  mind,  tempered  always  with  an 
air  of  dignity,  diffused  an  atmosphere  of  good-humour 
around  him.  He  became  a  particular  favourite  with  the 
young  officers  and  cadets,  as,  indeed,  with  persons  of  all 
ranks  on  board.  One  of  his  favourite  amusements  at 
table,  during  his  walks  on  the  quarter-deck,  and  when  he 
repaired  to  his  seat  on  the  poop,  to  enjoy  the  great 

VOL.  i.  18 


206  LIFE    OF   THE  [1804. 

luxury  of  the  day,  the  coolness  of  the  evening  breeze, 
consisted  in  sounding  the  dispositions  and  acquirements 
of  those  around  him,  and  in  exercising  his  peculiar  art  in 
drawing  them  out,  to  talk,  every  one  of  what  he  knew 
best. 

A  voyage  of  any  great  length  must,  however,  in  the 
end,  become  tiresome  to  all  who  are  not  engaged  in  the 
active  duties  of  the  ship  ;  and,  above  all,  to  such  as  are 
earnestly  bent  upon  entering  on  a  new  scene  of  action. 
He  found  it  impossible  to  have  his  books  so  at  his  com- 
mand as  to  enable  him  to  pursue,  with  regularity,  any 
course  of  speculation  that  required  long  continued  atten- 
tion, or  exact  and  extensive  reference.  His  reading  was 
consequently  general  and  desultory.  Towards  the  end 
of  the  voyage,  Lady  Mackintosh  had  a  severe  attack  of 
illness,  so  that  it  was  with  much  satisfaction  that,  on 
Saturday,  the  26th  of  May,  he  landed  at  Bombay,  after  a 
voyage  of  three  months  and  thirteen  days. 

At  the  period  of  his  arrival,  Jonathan  Duncan,  Esq. 
was  Governor,  while  Sir  Benjamin  Sullivan,  a  puisne 
judge  from  Madras,  held  the  office  of  Recorder,  in  the 
interval  between  the  death  of  Sir  William  Syer,  and  the 
arrival  of  the  new  judge.  Mr.  Duncan  received  Sir 
James  in  the  most  friendly  manner  at  Parell,  the  official 
country-house  of  the  Governor,  which  he  insisted  on 
resigning  to  him,  till  he  could  provide  himself  with  a 
suitable  residence.  On  Monday,  the  28th  of  May,  the 
new  Eecorder  took  his  place  on  the  Bench,  and  was 
sworn  into  office. 

His  first  impressions  on  reaching  this  new  scene  will 
be  best  conveyed  in  his  own  words,  extracted  from  an 
over-land  letter  (June  29th)  to  Mr.  Sharp. 

"  We  arrived  here  on  the  26th  of  May,  after  a  voyage, 
accounted  prosperous,  and  which  might  have  been  plea- 


1804.]  RIGHT   HON.   SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  207 

sant  (if  any  voyage  could  be  so),  of  three  months  and 
thirteen  days.  The  heat  was  then  the  greatest  of  the 
year,  but  it  was  only  very  unpleasant  during  calms,  and 
we  have  borne  it  in  a  way  that  would  have  been  very 
encouraging,  if  we  were  not  good-naturedly  told  that  the 
climate  never  begins  to  show  hostility  in  the  first  year. 
I  should  not  know  how  to  extract  a  paragraph  out  of  the 
voyage,  even  if  paper  were  less  precious  than  it  is  in  a 
billet  that  is  to  travel-over  the  Great  Desert.  As  I  am 
to  write  to  you  at  length  by  the  ships,  in  less  than  a 
month,  I  shall  reserve  my  lounging  correspondence  till 
that  opportunity,  and  perhaps,  after  all,  that  letter  may 
reach  you  sooner  than  this. 

"  Since  my  arrival  we  have  lived,  and  are  still  living, 
at  the  Governor's  country-house,  which  he  has  given  up 
to  us  during  the  rains.  We  found  no  house  ready  for 
our  reception ;  and  during  the  three  or  four  months  of 
the  monsoon  (three  weeks  of  which  are  past),  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  remove  furniture. 

"  Our  climate  may  be  endured ;  but  I  feel  that,  by 
its  constant,  though  silent,  operation,  existence  is  ren- 
dered less  joyous,  and  even  less  comfortable.  I  see 
around  me  no  extraordinary  prevalence  of  disease,  but 
I  see  no  vigorous,  cheerful  health.  What  little  activity 
of  mind  we  have,  is  directed  towards  Orientalism.  Even 
in  this,  we  are  far  behind  the  other  settlements.  We 
are  but  provincial  beaux  esprtts  even  in  the  Sanscrit 
literature.  The  Governor,  who  has  been  very  civil  to 
us,  is  an  ingenious,  intelligent  man,  not  without  capacity 
and  disposition  to  speculate.  Four  and  thirty  years' 
residence  in  this  country  have  Bramiiused  his  mind  and 
body.  He  is  good-natured,  inclined  towards  good,  and 
indisposed  to  violence,  but  rather  submissive  to  those 
who  are  otherwise. 

"A  few   days   ago  we   received,  by  a  packet   from 


208  LIFE   OF   THE  [1804. 

Bussora,  the  London  papers  to  the  27th  of  March,  and 
the  Frankfort  papers  to  the  8th  or  9th  of  April.  Long 
before  this  time,  if  we  are  to  believe  our  European 
journals,  the  Foxes  and  Grenvilles  have  coalesced,  Pitt 
still  preserving  a  mysterious  neutrality.  My  wishes  were 
and  are  for  universal  coalition.  My  personal  feelings 
must  be  with  Fox  and  Windham. 

"I  have  heard  a  great  deal  of  Bobus.*  His  fame 
is  greater  than  that  of  any  pundit  since  the  time  of 
Menu. 

"  Till  I  get  into  my  own  house,  I  shall  not  have  the 
consolations  of  my  library,  and  of  my  daily  philosophical 
labour ;  and  I  feel  it  somewhat  discouraging  to  look  at 
all  my  toil  and  economy  for  the  first  two  years,  as  being 
little  more  than  enough  to  clear  my  expenses  in  coming 
out  and  establishing  myself. 

"  To  turn  from  these  disagreeable  and  useless  topics, 
let  me  entreat  you  to  miss  no  opportunity  of  writing  me 
very  long  letters,  and  sending  me  very  large  packets  of 
newspapers,  magazines,  pamphlets,  &c.,  of  what  you 
think  trash  in  London.  No  memorial  of  the  world  in 
which  we  have  lived  is  trifling  to  us.  I  am  almost 
ashamed  to  own,  that  if  I  were  to  receive  another 
Paradise  Lost,  and  a  large  packet  of  newspapers  by  the 
same  conveyance,  I  should  open  the  last  parcel  with 
greater  eagerness.  Yet  why  should  I  be  ashamed,  since, 
after  all,  I  ought  to  feel  more  interest  in  my  friends  and 
my  country  than  in  the  most  delightful  amusements  of 
fancy.  Let  me  remind  you  also  of  the  German  and 
French  Journals ;  and,  to  the  latter,  I  beg  you  to  add  a 
new  one,  'Les  Archives  de  la  Litteratiire  par  Suard,  Morettet, 
&c.' "  After  a  long  list  of  books  to  be  sent,  he  continues, 

*  The  name  which,  amongst  his  familiar  friends,  distinguishes  Mr. 
Robert  Smith,  then  discharging  the  functions  of  Advocate- General  in 
Bengal. 


1804.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  209 

"To  these  you  will  add  what  you  think  proper,  erring 
rather  on  the  side  of  excess  than  of  defect.  While  I  am 
on  the  chapter  of  books,  let  me  beg  of  you  to  tell  Horner, 
that  by  a  ship  arrived  the  other  day,  I  received  a  letter 
from  my  friend  Camille  Jourdan,  at  Paris,  informing  me 
that  the  books  of  political  economy,  which  H.  and  I  had 
ordered  in  summer,  were  ready,  and  that  they  waited  my 
orders  to  know  how  they  were  to  be  sent.  I  have  con- 
trived to  write  to  C.  J.  through  Gentz,  at  Vienna,  by 
this  despatch,  begging  him  to  send  the  books  to  Dulau, 
by  Holland  or  Tonningen,  and  that  you  will  give  an 
order  for  the  price ;  but  as  this  letter  may  not  reach 
Paris,  let  Horner,  through  Romilly,  or  somebody  else, 
find  a  safe  opportunity  of  communicating  the  same  thing 
to  C.  J.,  under  cover,  to  Degerando. 

u  Is  the  poet,  Campbell,  gone  to  teach  political  eco- 
nomy to  the  Lithuanians  ?*  I  wrote  to  George  Philips, 
before  I  left  Hyde,  a  very  stupid  letter,  with  no  value 
but  that  which  it  might  have  as  a  farewell  mark  of  the 
warmest  esteem  and  friendship.  If  this  note  is  spared  by 
the  Wahabees  and  Passwan  Oglan,f  I  presume  it  will  get 
to  London  a  few  days  before  the  King  of  Clubs  re-assem- 
bles. In  that  case,  I  hope  you  will  '  open  the  session ' 
by  assuring  them  of  my  good  wishes  for  the  body  and  its 
members,  Sydney  Smith,  Scarlett,  Boddington,  Rogers, 
Whishaw,  and  Horner.  If  Lord  Holland  be  returned, 
say  that  I  have  long  meditated,  and  shall  soon  accomplish, 
a  letter  of  thanks  to  him  for  his  very  kind  letter  from 
Spain.  Best  remembrances  to  Lord  Henry  Petty  and 
William  Smith;  J  and  when  you  see  the  painters, §  men- 

*  Mr.  Campbell  had  at  this  time  some  thoughts  of  accepting  a  Pro- 
fessorship at  Wilna. 

f  A  predatory  chief  infesting  the  roads  of  "Wallachia. 

J  Late  M.  P.  for  Norwich.  §  Lawrence,  Opie,  and  Hoppner. 

18* 


210  LIFE   OF   THE  [1804. 

tion  me  to  them.  { Forget  me  not  —  forget  me  not!' 
Will  you  get  either  George  Wilson  or  Romilly  to  inform 
Jeremy  Bentham,  that,  very  unfortunately,  the  old  very 
bad  prison  had  been  destroyed,  and  a  new  one  just  built, 
very  bad  too,  but  not  so  intolerable  as  to  give  me  [a  pre- 
text] for  a  panopticon. 

"  Remember  me  most  kindly  to  Erskine,  and,  if  you 
see  them,  to  Adam,  Romilly,  George  Wilson,  and  Lens. 
God  bless  you ! " 

In  the  promised  letter  by  the  ships  (August  14th), 
he  adds,  "  We  first  came  to  the  governor's  country- 
house  at  Parell  (formerly  a  Jesuit's  College),  where,  as 
there  was  some  difficulty  about  finding  a  house,  he  invited 
us  to  remain  during  the  monsoon,  when  he  resides  in 
town ;  which  invitation  we  accepted,  and  are  accordingly 
still  at  Parell.  It  is  a  large,  airy,  and  handsome  house, 
with  two  noble  rooms,  situated  in  the  midst  of  grounds 
that  have  much  the  character  of  a  fine  English  park. 
Here  we  are  pretty  well  lodged ;  but  I  am  deprived  of 
the  luxury  of  rambling  through  my  books,  which  I  cannot 
put  up  till  we  get  into  our  own  house ;  *  and  I  must 
delay,  till  the  same  period,  the  beginning  of  my  book/f* 
which,  by  regularly  supplying  an  agreeable  occupation, 
will,  I  hope,  greatly  palliate  the  evils  of  my  banishment. 

"  We  arrived  on  the  26th  of  May,  and  for  the  first 
fortnight  the  heat  was  such,  that  it  can  be  likened  to 
nothing  European.  Even  in  the  evening,  when  we  were 
tempted  abroad  by  a  sunless  sky,  we  found  the  whole 

*  Parell  became  ultimately,  in  accordance  with  the  kind  offer  of  the 
Governor  (a  bachelor,  for  whose  wants  the  accommodations  were  pro- 
bably needlessly  extensive),  the  Recorder's  permanent  residence. 

t  Alluding  to  the  general  work  which  he  contemplated,  "  On  the 
Principles  of  Morals." 


1804.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  211 

atmosphere  like  the  air  of  a  heated  room.  In  about  a 
fortnight  the  rains  began,  and  tumbled  from  the  heavens 
in  such  floods,  that  it  seemed  absurd  to  call  them  by  the 
same  name  with  the  little  sprinkling  showers  of  Europe. 
Then  the  air  was  delightfully  cooled,  and  we  all  exulted 
in  our  deliverance ;  but  we  were  too  quick  in  our 
triumph ;  we  soon  found  that  we  were  to  pay  in  health 
for  what  we  got  in  pleasure.  The  whole  frame  is  here 
rendered  so  exquisitely  susceptible  of  the  operation  of 
cold  and  moisture,  by  so  long  a  continuance  of  dry  heat, 
that  the  monsoon  is  the  usual  season  for  the  attack  of 
those  disorders  of  the  bowels  which,  when  they  are 
neglected  or  ill-treated,  degenerate  into  an  inflammation 
of  the  liver,  the  peculiar  and  most  fatal  disease  of  this 
country.  Dr.  Moseley's  paradox  I  now  perfectly  under- 
stand— that  the  diseases  of  hot  countries  arise  chiefly 
from  cold.  No  doubt,  cold  is  the  immediate  cause  of 
most  of  them.  In  the  monsoon,  heat  succeeds  so  rapidly 
to  damp  and  comparative  cold,  and  they  are  so  strangely 
mixed  together,  that  we  find  it  very  difficult  to  adapt 
our  ^ress  and  our  quantity  of  air  to  the  state  of  the 
weather.  We  new-comers  threw  open  every  window, 
and  put  on  our  thinnest  cotton  jackets  to  enjoy  the 
coolness.  The  experienced  Indians  clothed  themselves 
thickly,  and  carefully  excluded  currents  of  air.  We 
soon  found  that  they  were  right.  Lady  M.  has  suffered 
considerably,  and  I  a  little,  from  the  cold  of  Bombay. 
You  may  judge  how  troublesome  the  struggle  between 
damp  and  heat  must  be,  when  I  tell  you,  that  I  had  on 
yesterday  a  very  thin  cotton  jacket  and  vest,  but  that, 
having  been  obliged  to  take  one  dose  of  Madeira,  and 
another  of  laudanum,  I  have  this  day  put  on  an  English 
coat  and  waistcoat,  though  the  thermometer  be  (I  dare 
say)  at  84°.  After  the  use  of  medicines,  so  violent,  both 


212  LIFE   OF   THE  [1804. 

of  which  continue  to  be  with  me  equally  unusual,  you 
must  not  wonder  that  I  am  somewhat  dull  this  morning ; 
and  I  cannot  adjourn  writing  till  a  brighter  moment,  for 
the  ships  are  to  sail  to-morrow.  The  same  reason  will 
excuse  the  pharmacopolical  tendencies  of  my  letter. 

"  Here,  however,  they  shall  stop ;  but  I  cannot  pro- 
mise that  the  dulness  also  is  to  end  here.  From  what- 
ever place  I  write,  I  flatter  myself  that  the  letter  will 
be  interesting  to  you.  But,  indeed,  my  dear  friend, 
I  almost  defy  your  ingenuity  and  vivacity  to  extract 
an  amusing  letter  out  of  this  place.  There  is  a  lan- 
guor and  lethargy  among  the  society  here,  to  which  I 
never  elsewhere  saw  any  approach.  Think  of  my  situa- 
tion—  become  (as  I  once  ventured  to  tell  you)  too  fas- 
tidious in  society,  even  in  London ;  and,  for  the  same 
reason  (shall  I  confess  it),  not  so  patient  of  long-continued 
solitude  as  I  hoped  that  I  should  be.  You  see  the  mis- 
chief of  being  spoiled  by  your  society.  The  King  of 
Clubs  ought  only  to  transport  its  members  in  very  atro- 
cious cases.  The  Governor,  as  I  told  you  in  my  over- 
land despatch,  is  indeed  an  ingenious  and  intelligent  man ; 
but  every  Englishman  who  resides  here  very  long,  lias,  I 
fear,  his  mind  either  emasculated  by  submission,  or  cor- 
rupted by  despotic  power.  Mr.  Duncan  may  represent 

one  genus,  the  Braminised  Englishman;  Lord  W 

is  indisputably  at  the  head  of  the  other,  the  Suttaniscd 
Englishman. 

"  There  are  many  things  which  might  look  amusing 
enough  to  you  in  a  letter,  of  which  the  effect  is,  in  truth, 
soon  worn  out.  I  am  carried  in  my  palanquin  by  bearers 
from  Hyderabad.  I  have  seen  monkeys  and  their  tricks 
exhibited  by  a  man  from  Ougein.  I  condemn  a  native 
of  Ahmedabad  to  the  pillory.  I  have  given  judgment 
on  a  bill  for  brandy  supplied  by  a  man  who  kepc  a  urain- 


1804.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  213 

shop  at  Poonah.  I  have  decided  the  controversies  of 
parties  who  live  in  Cutch ;  *  and  grant  commissions  to 
examine  witnesses  at  Cambay.  I  have,  in  the  same 
morning,  received  a  visit  from  a  Roman  Catholic  Bishop, 
of  the  name  of  Ramazzini,  from  Modena,  a  descendant 
of  the  celebrated  physician,  Ramazzini,  a  relation  of 
Muratori,  who  wondered  that  an  Englishman  should 
be  learned  enough  to  quote  Virgil ;  of  an  Armenian 
Archbishop  from  Mount  Ararat ;  of  a  Shroff  (money 
dealer)  from  Benares,  who  came  hither  by  the  way  of 
Jyenagur,  and  who  can  draw  bills  on  his  correspondents 
at  Cabul ;  and  of  the  Dustoor,  or  Chief-Priest,  of  the 
Parsees  at  Surat,  who  is  copying  out  for  me  the  genuine 
works  of  Zoroaster.  All  this  jumble  of  nations,  and 
usages,  and  opinions,  looks,  at  a  distance,  as  if  it  would 
be  very  amusing,  and  for  a  moment  it  does  entertain ; 
but  it  is  not  all  worth  one  afternoon  of  free  and  rational 
conversation  at  the  King  of  Clubs.  If  ever  I  rise  again 
from  the  dead,  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  travel  for  the  sake 
of  seeing  clever  men,  or  beautiful  countries  ;  but  I  shall 
make  no  tours  to  see  fantastic  or  singular  manners,  and 
uncouth  usages.  It  is  all  a  cheat ;  at  least  it  is  too 
trifling  and  short-lived  to  deserve  the  pains  that  must  be 
taken  for  it.  I  should  rather  travel  to  the  Temple,  and 
there  try  to  keep  Porson  quiet  for  a  week  ;  and  make  a 
voyage  down  the  Thames,  to  force  my  way  into  Jeremy 
Bentham's,  in  Queen's-Square  Place.  These  are  monsters 
enough  for  me,  and,  fierce  as  one  of  them  is,  they  suit 
me  much  better  than  Mullahs  or  Pundits. 

"  The  island  of  Bombay  is  beautiful  and  picturesque  ; 
it  is  of  very  various  surface,  well  wooded,  with  bold  rocks 
and  fine  bays,  studded  with  smaller  islands.  There  is 

*  It  is  to  be  recollected,  that  at  the  period  when  this  letter  was 
written,  none  of  those  places  were  in  the  British  dominions ;  they  were 
all  foreign  and  strange. 


214  LIFE   OF   THE  [1804. 

» 

scarcely  any  part  of  the  coast  of  England  where  the  sea 
has  better  neighbours  of  every  kind.  But  what  avails  all 
this,  in  a  cursed  country  where  you  cannot  ramble  amidst 
these  scenes ;  where,  for  the  far  greater  part  of  the  day, 
you  are  confined  to  the  house,  and  where,  during  your 
short  evening  walk,  you  must  be  constantly  on  your 
guard  against  cobra  capetts  and  cobra  manitts?  The 
pleasure  of  scenery  is  here  but  little ;  and  so  seems  to 
have  thought  a  young  artist,  wiiom  a  strange  succession 

of  accidents  threw  upon  our  shores,  W ,  a  brother 

of  the  Academician,  and  a  young  man  who  seems  not 
destitute  of  talents.  As  soon  as  I  heard  of  his  being 
here,  I  unearthed  him.  I  offered  him  a  room  in  my 
house.  I  offered  to  go  with  him,  in  two  or  three 
months,  when  the  weather  is  cooler,  to  all  the  caves  in 
this  neighbourhood  (some  of  them  more  remarkable  than 
Elephanta),  to  write  a  description  for  his  prints,  a  text 
for  his  Voyage  Pittoresque  des  Cavernes,  which,  with  my 
name,  might,  I  thought,  more  rapidly  introduce  him 
to  the  public  after  his  return.  He  was  proof  against  all 
these  offers,  and  returns  with  the  same  ship  which  carries 
this  letter.  Love,  I  understand,  prevails  over  his  curi- 
osity and  ambition,  and  he  will  not  go  to  our  cave, 
because  his  Dido  is  not  here  to  enter  it  with  him.  I, 
at  least,  have  done  my  duty  to  the  arts,  for  which  I  have 
the  greatest  zeal,  though  my  zeal  be  not  always  according 
to  knowledge. — I  am.  very  desirous  of  being  kindly 
remembered  by  Lawrence,  and  I  beg  the  favour  of  your 
telling  him  so.  I  should  not  wish  to  be  forgotten  by 

Opie  or  by  Hoppner.     Tell  the  fair  0 ,  that  if  she 

would  address  as  pretty  verses  to  me,  as  she  did  to 
Ashburner,  I  think  she  might  almost  bring  me  back 
from  Bombay,  though  she  could  not  prevent  his  going 

*  Two  species  of  snakes. 


1804.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  215 

thither.*  I  beg  that  she  will  have  the  goodness  to 
convey  Lady  M.'s  kindest  compliments,  and  mine,  to  her 
friend,  Madame  Roland/j-  of  Norwich.  *  *  * 

"Among  other  resources  which  I  am  providing  against 
ennui,  besides  my  projected  work,  the  principal  are,  the 
reformation  of  the  police,  of  the  administration  of  penal 
law,  and  particularly  of  the  prison ;  which,  as  I  intend, 
if  possible,  to  return  to  Europe  with  a  bloodless  ermine, 
will  be  my  principal  instrument  of  punishment.  I  am 
bound  to  profess  my  gratitude  to  Bentham  and  Dumont, 
not  only  for  the  instruction  which  I  have  received  from 
them,  but  perhaps  still  more  for  the  bent  which  they 
have  given  to  my  mind.  I  have  also  engaged  the 
Government  in  a  statistical  survey  of  this  Island,  with 
bills  of  births,  marriages,  deaths,  &c.  which  I  shall  pub- 
lish, J  when  it  is  ready  for  me,  as  the  first  fruits  of  econo- 
mical observation  within  the  tropics.  By:the-bye,  I  wish 
you  would  have  the  goodness  to  let  Malthus  know  that  I 
have  lost  his  Queries,  and  that  he  must  send  you  another 
copy,  which  you  will  convey  to  me.  They  may  really 
help  us  a  great  deal. 

A  sjs  *|s  sfe 

*  It  was  probably  the  delivery  of  the  above  message,  which  produced 
the  elegant  impromptu  by  Mrs.  Opie,  on  being  asked  whether  she  had 
written  verses  on  the  absence  of  Sir  J.  M.  in  India. 
"  No ;  think  not  in  verse 
I  his  absence  deplore, 
"Who  a  sorrow  can  sing, 

Till  that  sorrow  is  o'er  ? 
And  when  shall  his  loss 

"With  such  sorrow  be  class'd  ? 
Oh  !  when  shall  his  absence 
Be  pain  that  is  past  ? 

LONDON,  March  29,  1805. 

t  A  playful  name  for  a  Norwich  friend. 

J  See  note  on  the  Discourse  on  opening  the  Literary  Society  of 
Bombay.  —  Trans.  Lit.  Soc.  Bom.  vol.  i.  p.  25. 


216  LIFE   OF   THE  [1804. 

"  And  now,  my  dear  Sharp,  I  have  forgotten,  in  the 
pleasure  of  imaginary  conversation  with  you,  that  I  have 
other  letters  to  write,  and  that  the  time  is  very  short. 
For  my  list  of  books  I  shall  trust  to  my  two  former  let- 
ters. I  will  only  add,  that  I  believe  I  have  stinted  myself 
too  much  in  Reviews  and  Magazines — so  trifling  in  Lon- 
don— so  invaluable  here ;  and  that  I  beg  you  to  indulge 
me  largely.  Besides  the  regular  bound  sets  of  the 
Reviews,  Morning  Chronicles,  and  Cobbett,  I  beg  you  to 
send,  by  every  opportunity,  as  many  loose  ones  as  you 
can  collect.  Think  of  these  things ;  so  worthless  in  the 
midst  of  the  luxury  of  London,  but  to  me  as  delightful 
as  a  cup  of  your  filthiest  Wapping  water  might  be 
between  Bussora  and  Aleppo.  If  I  so  highly  value 
these  things,  how  shall  I  represent  to  you  my  value  for 
your  letters.  *  *  *  I  shall  therefore  hope,  that  no 
overland  despatch  will  reach  Bombay,  during  my  resi- 
dence here,  without  a  little  billet,  and  that  no  English 
ship  will  enter  the  harbour  without  a  voluminous  epistle 
from  you.  If  you  can  prevail  on  all  our  friends  to  take 
compassion  on  me,  and  to  write  to  me,  with  the  same,  or 
with  nearly  the  same  regularity,  you  will  deprive  exile  of 
half  its  bitterness.  For  God's  sake,  preach  as  eloquently 
as  you  can  on  the  merit  of  charitable  letters  to  Bombay. 
As  to  my  answers,  you  do  not  need  charity ;  and  what 
I  have  to  give  would  not  be  relief  if  you  did.  Indian 
topics  are  very  uninteresting  in  England ;  not  to  mention 
that  I  am  in  the  most  obscure  corner  of  India;  but 
nothing  English  is  trifling,  or  little,  or  dull  in  our  eyes 
at  present.  I  should  be  very  glad  to  have  written  to  me 

the  refuse  of  Debrett's  *  shop,  or  even  Dr. 's  account 

of   Ptolemy   Philopater.      '  Forget  me   not  — forget  me 
not ! " 

*  An  eminent  publisher  of  that  day. 


1804.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  217 

"  I  hope  I  shall  write  this  evening  to  Scarlett,  Sydney 
Smith,  and  Horner.  But  if  I  should  not  be  able,  they 
must  be  content  for  the  present  with  my  good  intentions, 
and  rely  on  a  letter  by  the  next  ship.  In  that  case,  I  beg 
Scarlett  to  let  Dr.  Currie  know,  and  Horner  to  inform 
Dugald  Stewart,  that  I  meant  also  to  have  written  to 
them,  that  I  shall  very  soon  write  to  them,  and  that  in 
the  mean  time  they  would  very  much  gratify  me  by 
writing  to  me.  I  beg  to  be  particularly  remembered  to 
Rogers  and  Boddington.  I  hope  Columbus  will  soon 
undertake  a  new  voyage  to  the  East,  and  that  he  will 
animate  the  dulness  of  the  one  Indies  more  quickly  than 
he  conquered  the  barbarism  of  the  other.*  I  also  beg 
you  to  convey  my  best  wishes  to  Lord  Henry  Petty, 
"W.  Smith,  Whishaw,  and  tutti  quanti,  I  shall  myself 
write  to  Erskine.  I  did  mean  to  have  written  a  very  long 
letter  to  Lord  Holland,  but  must  delay  this  also,  till  the 
next  ship.  *  *  Catharine  desires  her  most  affectionate 
remembrances  to  you,  and  begs  that  if  any  of  her  family, 
brothers  or  sisters,  be  accessible  to  you,  you  will  lend 
them  this  letter;  and  we  also  both  hope  that  you  will  give 
them  as  much,  as  frequent,  and  as  seasonable  information, 
as  you  can  collect  from  Bruce  and  De  Ponthieu,  about  the 
over-land  despatch. 

"I  have  been  obliged  to  allow  Gentz  and  Camille 
Jourdan  to  insert  a  notice  in  the  German  and  French 
Journals,  announcing  that  I  am  here  ready  to  help  the 
literati  of  the  continent  in  their  inquiries  concerning 
India.  I  think  I  am  bound  to  give  the  same  notice  to 
those  of  my  own  country.  Perhaps  the  best  way  will  be 
for  you  to  request  Dr.  Aikin,  with  my  very  best  com- 
pliments, to  insert  a  modest  notice  of  this  sort  in  the 
Literary  Intelligence  of  the  Monthly  Magazine.  This 

*  Mr.  Rogers's  Poem  of  Columbus  was  not  then  published. 
VOL.  I.  19 


218  LIFE    OF   THE  [1804. 

reminds  me  of  begging  you  will  not  forget  my  best  com- 
pliments to  the  Barbaulds.  I  read  over  the  whole  of 
Addison's  and  Dryden's  prose,  and  of  Milton's  verse, 
during  the  voyage.  But  I  have  no  time  to  tell  you  what 
I  felt.  I  do  wonder  that  it  could  ever  be  doubted  who 
was  the  best  prose  writer  in  English. 

"  Farewell,  my  dear  Sharp.     God  bless  you. 

"J.  MACKINTOSH." 

The  enumeration  of  those  to  whom  he  begs  to  be 
remembered,  has  been  given  nearly  entire,  to  convey 
some  idea  of  the  extent  of  the  sacrifice  which  he  made 
in  leaving  England.  His  sympathy  with  his  distant 
friends,  and,  if  we  may  venture  to  say  so,  with  his  coun- 
try, was  extreme.  The  anxiety  to  receive  letters  from 
distant  friends,  will  seem  natural  to  all ;  but  those  only 
who  have  visited  remote  countries,  where  intercourse 
with  home  is  limited  and  uncertain  (and  such,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  war,  was  then  the  condition  of  Bombay), 
can  fully  enter  into  his  feelings  in  that  respect,  or  con- 
ceive the  sinking  of  the  heart  that  follows  the  arrival  of 
a  fleet  with  no  letters,  or  with  but  a  few;  or,  on  the 
contrary,  the  delight  of  receiving  a  voluminous  bundle 
of  correspondence,  from  a  wide  circle  of  distant  friends. 
His  restlessness  on  such  occasions  was  quite  distressing : 
"  Indian  victories  cannot  affect  me  personally,"  says  he  ; 
"  I  am  very  uncertain  about  their  public  effect,  though 
I  rather  hope  it  may  be  good.  I  must  own  that  half-a- 
dozen  of  them  do  not  interest  me  so  much  as  one  letter 
from  Mark-lane."  On  the  appearance  of  a  signal  for  a 
ship  from  England  or  the  Persian  Gulf,  messenger  was 
despatched  after  messenger,  in  rapid  succession,  from  his 
residence  in  the  country,  not  only  to  the  postroffice  and  to 
the  captain  of  the  expected  ship,  but  to  the  governor, 
and  to  every  person  who  was  likely  to  receive  any 


1804.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  219 

particle  of  European  intelligence.  It  must  be  recollected, 
that  during  the  greater  part  of  his  residence  in  India, 
his  patriotism  was  as  much  interested  in  this  eagerness  as 
his  private  affections ;  that  Europe  was  threatened  or 
overrun  by  Buonaparte ;  and  that  England  itself  was 
the  professed  object  of  invasion,  and  of  that  great  con- 
queror's most  deadly  hatred.  It  was  no  ordinary  era. 
Hardly  a  vessel  arrived  that  did  not,  in  the  few  pages  of 
a  common  journal,  bring  information  of  strange  and 
unexpected  events ;  each  of  which,  for  ages  before,  would 
have  been  considered  as  wonderful  results  even  of  a  long 
war,  and  as  furnishing  materials  for  many  volumes  of 
history ;  the  establishment  of  the  French  empire,  of  the 
kingdom  of  Italy,  the  progress  of  the  French  in  Germany, 
the  battles  of  Ulm,  Austerlitz,  Friedland,  Asperne,  and 
all  that  followed  the  entrance  of  the  victorious  French 
armies  into  Vienna,  Berlin,  Madrid,  Warsaw ;  the  great 
events  in  Spain  ;  our  own  naval  victories  :  the  changes 
of  parties  in  England ;  our  measures  of  external  defence 
and  internal  policy  :  all  possessed  the  deepest  and  most 
intense  interest,  and  made  the  stronger  impression, 
through  the  gloomy  veil  of  uncertainty  that  distance 
threw  over  them.  This  eager  anxiety,  far  from  declining, 
rather,  if  possible,  increased  upon  him,  down  to  the 
moment  when  he  embarked  on  his  return  to  England ; 
as,  indeed,  the  danger  of  England,  from  the  entire  sub- 
jugation of  all  the  rest  of  Europe,  was  every  day  increas- 
ing down  to  that  time. 

It  will  have  been  observed,  that  his  disappointment  on 
reaching  Bombay  was  considerable.  He  at  once  felt  that 
the  sacrifice  he  had  made  in  quitting  England  was  greater 
than  he  had  anticipated,  and  he  perhaps  found  that  the 
benefits  he  gained,  in  a  pecuniary  point  of  view,  did  not 
atone  for  the  privations  to  which  they  subjected  him. 

He  found,  sensibly,  that  he  had  quitted  the  road  of 


220  LIFE   OF   THE  [1804. 

ambition,  when  he  quitted  the  English  bar.  He  had 
there,  after  many  struggles,  secured  a  reputation  of  the 
highest  class  for  talent.  With  the  usual  proportion  of 
labour  and  industry,  he  might  have  reckoned  on  imme- 
diately sharing  in  the  ordinary  advantages  of  his  profes- 
sion ;  while  the  superiority  of  his  information  and  powers 
in  some  particular  branches  of  jurisprudence,  seemed  to 
open  for  him,  in  those  particular  lines,  a  more  than 
common  share  of  professional  employment.  In  the  course 
of  the  changes  to  which  parties  are  liable,  he  possessed  a 
fair,  and  no  very  distant  prospect  of  winning  his  way  to 
a  seat  in  parliament,  and  of  the  consideration  and  hopes 
that  attend  distinction  there. 

In  private  intercourse,  his  wide  and  varied  knowledge, 
at  once  so  refined  and  so  practical,  the  originality  of  his 
views,  his  delightful  manners  and  uncommon  colloquial 
powers,  had  secured  him  a  flattering  reputation  in  the 
circles  of  the  capital,  most  distinguished  for  talent,  litera- 
ture, and  wit;  and  the  pleasures  of  elegant  society,  and  of 
brilliant  and  enlightened  conversation,  had  become  to  him 
almost  a  necessary  of  life.  An  interval  of  several  months 
between  his  appointment  to  India,  and  his  departure 
for  it,  during  which  he  intermitted  his  labours  at  the 
bar,  and  enjoyed  comparative  leisure  for  the  indulgence 
of  such  tastes,  had  probably  contributed  to  confirm  them. 

But  by  mere  change  of  place,  he  found  the  thread  of 
his  political  connections  in  England  snapped  ;  his  place 
was  filled,  if  not  by  abler  men,  at  least  by  men  nearer  at 
hand.  His  name  was  in  danger  every  day  of  being  less 
and  less  remembered.  In  the  new  scene  on  which  he 
was  thrown,  his  fine  speculations  and  social  accomplish- 
ments were  nearly  useless,  or  rather  only  a  source  of  pain 
and  regret.  He  had  few  to  sympathise  with,  and  not  a 
great  many  even  to  understand  him.  He  felt  that  he  was 
misplaced. 


1804.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  221 

That  he  should  have  been  disappointed  was  natural, 
and  may  easily  be  conceived  ;  but,  that  one  of  his  saga- 
city and  reflection  should  have  been  disappointed  to  the 
degree  which  he  evidently  was,  may  perhaps  be  regarded 
as  not  a  little  surprising.  He  knew  that  his  destination 
was  Bombay,  a  remote  and  secluded  settlement.  And 
it  was  hardly  worthy  of  his  foresight  to  have  entertained 
expectations  of  meeting  there  with  a  large  or  choice  circle 
of  men  of  talent,  or  men  of  letters.  He  seems  to  have 
measured  the  society  of  a  body  of  colonists,  accidentally 
brought  together  on  a  distant  island,  and  devoted  to  the 
active  pursuits  of  commerce  and  war,  by  that  of  the '  King 
of  Clubs,'  and  it  was  found  wanting.  He  made  perhaps, 
the  most  polished  and  refined  circle  of  professional  and 
literary  men  in  the  chief  capital  of  Europe, — the  standard 
for  judging  of  a  second-rate  settlement  in  a  distant  quarter 
of  Asia.  The  conviction  flashed  on  his  mind,  that  he 
was  not  at  home ;  and  his  disappointment  was  extreme. 

On  discovering  the  miscalculation  which  he  had  made, 
a  cool  and  dispassionate  consideration  of  circumstances 
ought,  perhaps,  to  have  led  him  to  avail  himself  of  the 
leisure  he  possessed,  to  retire  into  his  own  mind,  and 
perfect  some  one  of  those  great  and  useful  works  which 
he  had  meditated,  and  to  one  of  which  allusion  has  been 
made.  By  such  a  resolution,  he  might  at  the  same 
time  have  benefited  mankind,  and  raised  himself  higher 
than  ever,  not  only  in  the  respect  of  the  society  which 
he  had  left,  but  in  the  scale  of  European  estimation. 
But  besides  his  habitual  sin  of  indolence,  perhaps  the 
former  habits  of  his  mind  were  not  very  favourable  to  the 
adoption  of  a  plan  of  this  nature.  Like  most  men  nur- 
tured in  active  life,  he  found  that  retirement  had  much 
fewer  charms  for  him  in  the  enjoyment,  than  in  the  anti- 
cipation. The  spoiled  child  of  London  society  required  a 
constant  succession  of  excitements — the  want  of  which 

19* 


222  LIFE   OF   THE  [1804. 

nothing  could  supply.  No  succession  of  amusement  or 
business  had  ever  power  to  interrupt  his  studies,  his 
reading  and  speculations,  which  constituted,  as  he  himself 
imagined,  the  highest  pleasure  of  his  life.  But  when 
deprived  of  the  excitements  of  literary  and  political 
society,  these  delights,  though  never  abandoned,  lost  much 
of  their  worth.  He  felt  himself,  to  a  great  extent,  alone 
and  a  prisoner;  and,  in  all  his  future  correspondence,  we 
find  him  fretting  in  his  captivity,  and  beating  the  bars 
of  his  prison-door. 

But,  in  spite  of  this  feeling,  which  must  be  understood 
as  only  occasionally  coming  over  his  mind,  his  natural 
buoyancy  of  spirits,  and  invincible  good  nature,  made  him 
a  happy  man.  In  ordinary  society,  he  was  still  the  delight 
of  the  company :  with  his  few  friends,  the  flow  of  his  good 
humour,  and  the  active  excursiveness  of  his  imagination, 
were  unimpaired ;  and,  in  the  bosom  of  his  family,  when 
his  mind  yielded  itself  up  to  all  his  varied  domestic  feel- 
ings, he  seemed  to  have  nothing  to  desire.  The  truth  is, 
that  he  was  wonderfully  subject  to  the  influence  of  the 
objects  that  surrounded  him.  He  willingly  gave  himself 
up  entire  to  the  feeling  of  the  moment.  The  present  was 
then  his  eternity;  and,  in  this  temper,  some  both  of  his 
merits  and  defects  had  their  origin. 

The  society  of  Bombay  was  not  then  so  extensive  as 
it  has  since  become ;  and  as,  to  a  certain  degree,  it  had 
become  even  before  he  left  it.  It  possessed,  however, 
many  able  and  estimable  persons ;  some  extremely  intel- 
ligent merchants,  several  of  them  of  uncommon  natural 
powers,  some  brave  military  officers,  experienced  medical 
practitioners ;  and,  in  the  civil  service,  men  well  versed 
in  the  conduct  of  affairs.  Men  of  talent  occasionally 
visited  it  from  all  parts  of  India;  and,  in  these  various 
classes,  he  himself  found,  not  only  many  agreeable  ac- 
quaintances, but  some  valuable  friends.  As  for  men  of 


1804.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  223 

profound  learning,  of  highly  cultivated  understanding,  of 
philosophical  pursuits,  they  were  not  to  be  found,  and 
ought  not  to  have  been  looked  for. 

It  is  not  to  be  forgotten  that,  at  the  present  day,  the 
extensive  sphere  of  employment  afforded  to  the  civil 
servants  by  the  enlargement  of  the  territories  of  the  pre- 
sidency, and  the  excellent  course  of  liberal  education 
which  they  enjoy  at  Haileybury,  before  quitting  England, 
have  produced  their  natural  effects  on  that  branch  of  the 
service,  and  filled  it  with  men  who  would  do  honour  to 
any  country ;  while  the  general  change  in  the  objects  and 
extent  of  education  among  all  classes  of  our  countrymen, 
during  the  last  thirty  years,  has  affected  every  other 
portion  of  the  community.  The  island  bears  now  but  a 
very  faint  resemblance  to  what  it  formerly  was. 

Sir  James  arrived  at  the  very  crisis  of  a  great  revolution 
in  the  whole  state  of  society  in  India.  The  Company's 
servants  were  changing  their  old  habits  of  traders  and 
brokers,  for  those  of  governors.  Factories  had  become 
provinces.  Instead  of  being  guided  by  the  maxims  of 
the  natives,  as  they  formerly  had  necessarily  been,  when 
living  among  them  as  foreigners  and  chapmen,  they  were 
now  the  dominant  class ;  and  the  English  principles  of 
honour  and  morality  became  the  rule.  The  last  dregs  of 
former  habits  of  thinking  still  lurked  among  a  few  of  the 
older  members  of  the  community;  and,  by  them,  the 
arrival  of  an  able  man,  of  high  reputation,  to  fill  an  office 
which  they  regarded  with  no  friendly  feelings,  was  not 
viewed  with  much  complacency.  Even  such  as  were 
themselves  raised  above  all  taint  or  suspicion  of  corrup- 
tion, had  their  apprehensions  excited,  lest  any  acts  of  the 
few  who  lingered  behind  the  progress  of  the  others,  might 
bring  some  discredit  on  the  class. 

But,  however  that  may  be,  the  disappointment  which 
Sir  James  felt,  whether  well  or  ill-founded,  it  was  not  easy 


224  LIFE   OF   THE  [1804. 

for  him  to  conceal.  Accustomed  to  all  the  freedom  of 
thought,  and  frankness  of  expression,  of  a  great  capital, 
he  found  it  difficult  to  adopt  the  caution  that  is  necessary 
in  a  very  small  settlement.  His  opinions,  where  they 
were  not  expressed,  were  soon  divined,  but  they  were 
not  soon  forgiven.  The  most  perfect  good  nature  and 
benevolence,  on  his  part,  joined  to  the  admiration,  felt  for 
his  powerful  and  useful  talents,  were  not  able  speedily  to 
wear  out  this  primary  impression.  Supposed  contempt 
is  sure  to  be  repaid  by  real  dislike ;  and  such  as  dread  are 
already  prepared  to  hate. 

The  business  of  his  Court,  his  other  public  and  domes- 
tic duties,  and  his  books,  soon  occupied  his  time.  "  Our 
life  here  is  too  still,  and  too  uniform,"  says  he,  in  a  letter 
to  the  same  excellent  friend  (28th  of  October), "  to  afford 
any  thing  new  since  I  wrote  to  you  by  the  Elphinstone, 
since  I  received  yours  of  the  18th  of  April,  by  the  St. 
Vincent,  and  since  I  wrote  Homer  a  little  billet  overland 
about  five  weeks  ago.  But  as  a  mere  sign  of  life  made 
by  my  friends  in  Europe  is  delightful  to  me,  I  hope  it  is 
not  disagreeable  to  them  to  see  me  wave  a  handkerchief 
now  and  then.  This  is  all  that  I  have  now  to  do.  But 
I  send  you  two  of  our  newspapers,  which  contain  my 
charges  to  our  grand  jury.  The  instant  you  read  them, 
you  will  see  that  I  cannot  view  them  with  any  vanity  of 
authorship.  But  you  will  also  see,  that  I  do  all  I  can  to 
circulate  useful  and  liberal  ideas.  A  quarterly  sermon 
of  this  sort,  in  all  the  Indian  newspapers  with  an  official 
stamp  on  it,  will  be  read,  and,  perhaps,  in  part  adopted, 
by  those  who  would  turn  up  their  nose  at  any  anonymous 
Essay  of  ten  times  the  value.  I  wish  the  contents,  of 
at  least  the  second,  were  made  generally  known.  The 
Governor  is  an  excellent  man,  and  deserves  to  have  his 
good  deeds  made  public. 

"  I  have  not  yet  begun  my  regular  system  of  study  and 


1804.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  225 

composition,  though  my  library  be  now  established,  and 
splendidly  lodged  in  two  very  handsome  rooms  at  the 
end  of  a  saloon,  such  as  is  seldom  seen  in  an  English 
house.  My  first  work  will  be  achieved  in  a  fortnight,  a 
Discourse  on  opening  the  Literary  Society  at  Bombay.* 
Lady  M.  and  I  will,  after  that,  take  a  fortnight's  excursion 
to  Poonah,  which  is  about  ninety  miles  distant  from  us. 
On  our  return,  I  shall  prepare  T.  Wedgwood's  Meta- 
physicsjf  to  be  sent  by  the  January  ships ;  and  when  I 
have  despatched  them  and  all  my  English  letters,  by  that 
conveyance,  I  shall  seriously  and  earnestly  apply  myself 
to  my  work.  Having  nothing  to  tell  you  of  what  has 
been,  I  am  obliged  to  say  what  will  be." 

"  6th  November. 

"  Since  I  wrote  the  above,  we  have  all  been  cruelly  dis- 
appointed by  the  capture  of  the  Bussora  packet,  laden 
with  Europe  news  for  us,  and  with  about  100,000£  in 
bullion,  for  Arab  and  Persian  merchants,  which  was  taken 
about  a  month  ago  in  the  Gulf  of  Persia,  by  a  French 
privateer,  Captain  Le  Mesme.  Notwithstanding  this  cap- 
ture, I  take  my  chance  of  sending  this  by  the  same  con- 
veyance. Indeed,  all  conveyances  are  almost  equally 
exposed  to  danger.  Your  friend,  Lady  M.,  has  been  a 
second  time  indisposed,  but  has  recovered.  In  conse- 
quence of  Captain  Le  Mesme's  success,  we  know  nothing 
English  since  June,  when  the  new  administration,  com- 
posed of  William  and  Pitt  was  just  seated.  My  political 
antipathies  were  nearly  worn  out  before  I  left  England. 
Distance  has  completed  their  destruction.  I  therefore 
prefer  Pitt's  administration  to  Addington's,  for  reasons 

*  See  "  Transactions  of  the  Literary  Society  of  Bombay,"  vol.  i. 

t  He  had  undertaken  to  throw  into  form  and  method  some  philo- 
sophical speculations,  which  infirm  health  prevented  their  author  him- 
self from  completing. 


226  LIFE   OF   THE  [1804. 

merely  public.  But  my  attachments  survive  my  animo- 
sities ;  and  I  am  sorry,  for  personal  and  public  reasons, 
that  a  comprehensive  administration  was  not  formed.  I 
hope  the  murder  of  the  Due  d'Enghien  excited  as  much 
horror  in  England  as  in  our  minds.  Is  there  a  blacker 
act  in  history  ?  Write  long,  write  often ;  miss  no  oppor- 
tunity. I  often  hear  from  Bobus ;  always  merry ;  and 
always  kind.  Long  live  Bobus ! " 

It  sometimes  happens  that  an  opinion  is  good,  in  pro- 
portion as  it  is  early  arrived  at,  as  in  the  following  case  of 
a  comparative  judgment  of  two  forms  of  government  as 
they  strike  a  mind, —  fresh  from  another  hemisphere, — 
before  it  becomes  familiarised  with  the  prejudices  in 
favour  of  either. 

"  The  Mahratta  war,"  he  writes  to  Mr.  George  Moore, 
"  undertaken  upon  grounds  of  very  doubtful  policy,  has 
ended  in  establishing  the  direct  authority,  or  the  uncon- 
trollable influence,  of  England,  from  Lahore  to  Cape 
Comorin.  Your  map  will  help  your  memory  to  form 
some  idea  of  the  immensity  of  this  empire. 

"  A  monstrous  detail  of  evil  belongs  to  the  nature  of 
such  a  dominion ;  and  nothing  can  more  show  the  infer- 
nal character  of  the  Asiatic  governments,  than  that  the 
English  power  really  seems  to  me  to  be  a  blessing  to  the 
inhabitants  of  India.  Yet  the  English  government,  with- 
out a  community  of  interest  or  of  feelings  with  the  go- 
verned, is  undoubtedly  very  bad,  if  it  be  compared  with 
the  second  rate  governments  of  Europe.  But,  compared 
with  an  Indian  government,  it  is  angelic ;  and  I  consci- 
entiously affirm  that  the  most  impartial  philanthropist 
ought  to  desire  its  preservation." 

A  lively  idea  of  his  occupations,  and  of  his  manner  of 
passing  his  time,  is  presented  in  the  following  letters. 
The  first  is  addressed  to  his  brother-in-law. 


1805.]  EIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  227 


TO    JOHN    ALLEN,    ESQ.,    CRESSELLY. 

"  Parett  House,  Bombay,  February  22,  1805. 

"My  DEAR  ALLEN, — A  year  and  ten  days  are  now  past 
since  I  shook  hands,  on  the  beach  at  Ryde,  with  your 
three  excellent,  and,  to  me,  dear  sisters. — I  shall  not  tell 
you  how  often  I  have  thought  of  you  all  since ;  and  how 
little  I  ever  expect  to  find  a  set  of  friends  to  replace  you. 
Since  I  first  met  you,  I  have  always  felt  as  if  I  had  been 
born  one  of  you.  To  the  esteem  of  voluntary  friendship 
was  added  in  my  feelings  towards  you,  all  the  unreserved, 
undoubting,  easy,  and,  as  it  were,  natural  affection,  which 
seems  to  belong  exclusively  to  the  ties  of  blood.  These 
sentiments  I  have  felt  with  fearless  strength  since  I  left 
you.  They  have  sometimes  derived  a  sort  of  sacredness 
from  reflection  on  the  possibility  that  I  may  never  see 
you  more.  They  shall  be  in  my  heart  till  its  last  beat, 
whenever  and  wherever  that  may  happen  to  be. 

"  But  away  with  whining.  We  shall  all  meet  and  be 

merry.  C has  so  much  to  do  with  housekeeping, 

&c.,  and  we  have  both  so  judiciously  delayed  our  English 
letters  till  the  very  last  moment,  that  I  mean  to  give  you 
as  full  an  account  as  I  can  of  all  our  condition,  to  supply 

the  defects  which  C 's  laziness  and  hurry  may 

occasion  in  her  correspondence. 

"  I  shall  begin  with  our  health.  You  know  that  ill- 
ness made  poor  C 's  entry  into  Bombay  rather 

less  joyful  than  became  the  first  lady  of  the  island.  We 
arrived  here  during  the  most  burning  weather,  which  was 
not  certainly  favourable  to  her.  Then  followed  the 
monsoon,  with  unusually  abundant  rains,  which  consi- 
derably affected  her.  I  must  add,  that  since  I  have  stood 
at  the  bedside,  the  diseases  of  Bombay  have  lost  all  that 
mysterious  horror  in  which  my  fancy  had  arrayed  them; 


228  LIFE   OP   THE  [1805. 

and  that,  whenever  I  get  ill  here,  I  shall  not  be  haunted 
by  plagues  and  yellow  fevers,  but  shall  feel  less  alarm, 
and  look  with  a  clearer  foresight,  into  the  progress  of  my 
disease,  than  I  should  in  England.  The  practitioners  of 
medicine  are,  I  think,  quite  as  good ;  their  command  over 
disease  certainly  greater.  Though  there  be  not  so  much 
vigorous  health,  I  think  there  is  very  little  more  mortality. 
So  much  for  the  important  chapter  of  health. 

"  We  live  about  five  miles  of  excellent  road  over  a  flat 
from  our  capital.  We  inhabit,  by  the  Governor's  kind- 
ness, his  official  country-house,  a  noble  building,  with 
some  magnificent  apartments,  and  with  two  delightful 
rooms  for  my  library  (overlooking  a  large  garden  and  fine 
parkish  ground)  in  which  I  am  now  writing.  The  regu- 
lar course  of  our  idle  and  disengaged  day  is  as  follows. 
We  often  are,  and  always  ought  to  be,  on  horseback, 
before  six  (very  soon  it  must  be  five).  We  return  from 
our  ride  to  breakfast  at  eight ;  when,  to  show  the  ener- 
vating effects  of  the  climate,  I  eat  only  two  eggs  and  a 
large  plate  of  fish  and  rice,  called  Kedgeree;  not  to 
mention  two  cups  of  coffee,  and  three  of  tea.  During 
the  forenoon  there  is  no  exertion,  nor  going  out,  except 
from  necessity.  We  then  write,  read,  &c.  At  four, 
when  alone,  we  dine;  and  from, half-past  five  till  seven, 
walk,  which,  for  the  last  four  months,  we  eould  do  with 
great  pleasure.  At  seven  we  drink  tea ;  and,  from  tea 
to  bed-time,  I  read  to  our  whole  family  party,  to  the 

amusement,  I  hope,  of  C ,  and  to  the  instruction 

of  my  three  elder  children.  I  have  already  read  out  to 
them,  including  the  voyage,  all  Addison's  papers  (deli- 
cious ! ),  the  whole  of  Milton,  Cowper's  translation  of  the 
Iliad  and  Odyssey,  Dryden's  Virgil,  and  Potter's  .ZEschy- 

lus.     C ,  who  is  a  much  better  reader,  has  read 

several  plays  of  Shakspeare.  In  this  quiet  way  four  days 
out  of  five  pass.  The  forenoon  is  varied  by  my  days  of 


1805.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  229 

business.  I  have  four  terms  for  civil  business,  and  four 
sessions  for  criminal.  The  number  of  my  days  of  attend- 
ance is  about  110  in  a  year;  and  I  commonly  sit  three 
or  four  hours  each  day.  I  have  found  the  business  very 
easy;  indeed,  rather  an  amusement  than  toil.  The  two 
barristers  are  gentleman-like  men. 

"As  the  Court  varies  my  forenoon,  engagements 
abroad  or  at  home  sometimes  vary  C.'s  evening  and 
mine.  Dinner  is  never  before  seven,  and  seldom  to  a 
less  party  than  thirty,  arranged  by  strict  etiquette.  I 
need  say  little  of  such  evenings ;  they  are  not  the  nodes 
ccenceque  Dewn ;  they  are  not  quite  so  good  as  our 
King  of  Clubs,  to  which  I  hope  you  continue  faithful ; 

and  you  may  tell  la  ch&re  F that  they  are  not  equal 

even  to  booksellers'  parties.  The  cold  weather  (do  not 
smile  at  the  expression,  for  I  have  relished  my  blanket) 
has  varied  the  scene  by  a  few  public  and  private  balls ; 
and  we  have  lately  made  excursions  in  the  harbour  (a 
most  superb  bay),  and  to  some  of  the  most  beautiful  and 
interesting  spots  in  the  island  and  its  neighbourhood. 

These  last  have  been  particularly  agreeable.    C 

gave  one  very  pleasant  breakfast  at  a  beautiful  spot,  not 
far  from  this,  called  Sion.  We  dined  also  once  in  the 
cave  at  Elephanta,  a  striking  scene,  made  more  so  by  the 
band  of  Captain  Cockburn,*  of  the  Phaeton,  who,  with 
two  other  captains,  dined  with  us.  Cockburn  is  a  gallant, 
high-spirited  officer,  lively,  and  handsome  to  boot. 

*  *  *  * 

u  One  great  break  in  the  uniformity  of  our  life  arises 
from  the  packets  from  Bussora,  with  the  overland  de- 
spatches, which  usually  arrive  every  month  or  six  weeks. 
I  need  not  say  how  great  an  event,  the  arrival  of  the 

*  Now  Admiral  Sir  George  Cockburn,  G.  C.  B. 
VOL.  I.  20 


230  LIFE    OF   THE  [1805. 

Europe  ships  (as  we  call  the  Indiamen)  is  to  us.  Our 
last  European  news  was  in  the  Courrier  du  Bas  Rhin 
of  the  6th  of  November,  which  I  read  011  the  beach  at 
Mazagong,  about  six  in  the  morning,  embarking  for 
Elephanta,  and  which  conveyed  the  monstrous  and  (at 
all  other  times)  incredible  intelligence  of  the  seizure  of 
Sir  G.  Rumbold.  Whether  the  Imperial  Ruffian  will 
kick  any  spirit  into  the  powers  of  Europe,  or  kick  every 
remaining  spark  out  of  them,  is  now  to  be  seen,  or  rather 
has  by  this  time  been  seen,  though  not  by  me. 

"  I  could  have  told  you  a  good  deal  of  my  little  judicial 
history,  and  something  of  my  literary  (for  I  have  founded 
a  Literary  Society,  though  nobody  but  myself  has  yet 
read  an  essay  in  it),  but  I  thought  a  detail  of  our  own 
situation,  and  of  other  things,  only  as  far  as  they  affected 
us,  our  feelings,  and  prospects,  would  be  more  acceptable 
and  interesting  to  our  beloved  friends  at  Cresselly. 

"  I  have  told  enough  of  horses  and  sailing  for  Baugh,* 
who,  by-the-bye,  would  have  been  not  only  in  his  element, 
but  in  his  two  elements,  with  Arabs  and  yachts.  Of  your 
two  cousins,  Joshua  (the  Admiralf)  has  been  on  a  voyage 
to  Bussora  with  a  packet  since  September.  We  expect 
his  return  in  a  fortnight.  Nathaniel  (the  General^)  came 
here  from  Goa  in  the  beginning  of  December,  and  has 
lived  in  this  house. 

"God  grant  us  a  happy  meeting — I  dare  not  say  soon. 
Write  me  soon,  and  believe  me, 

"  Dear  John, 
a  Most  truly  and  entirely  yours, 

"JAMES  MACKINTOSH." 

*  Lady  Mackintosh's  youngest  brother. 

t  Brothers  in  the  Naval  and  Military  Service  of  the  Honourable 
East  India  Company. 


1805.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  231 

In  another  letter,  written  about  the  same  time,  he 
enters  more  into  detail  on  some  part  of  his  occupa- 
tions. 

TO   RICHARD    SHARP,   ESQ. 

"  Parell  House,  Bombay,  2^th  February,  1805. 

"  MY  DEAR  SHARP, 

*  *  *  * 

"  I  have  lost  all  terror  of  the  local  diseases.  When  I 
came  here,  I  dreaded  them  as  unknown  monsters ;  but 
since  I  have  known  them,  I  think  them  more  regular,  and 
more  manageable,  and  not  more  mortal  than  those  of 
England.  I  have  totally  escaped.  Whether  I  owe  it 
to  temperance,  and  not  fortune,  I  think  it  wisest  to  act 
as  if  I  owed  it  to  what  depends  on  myself.  I  shall 
therefore  stick  to  water  till  I  hear  that  you  and  Eogers 
are  qualified  to  crack  a  bottle  of  Port  with  the  Duke  of 
Norfolk. 

"  On  Court-days,  which  are  about  one  in  four,  I  go  to 
Bombay,*  distant  about  five  miles ;  on  other  days  read, 
lounge,  sometimes  write,  and,  alas !  oftener  loiter  away 
the  forenoon  in  the  really  beautiful  apartments  that  con- 
tain my  library;  dine  at  four;  from  half-past  five  to 
seven,  walk  on  the  terrace  and  walks  of  this  noble  house 
and  gardens,  which  for  the  last  four  months,  we  have 
always  done  with  pleasure.  Drink  tea  at  seven,  and  from 
seven  to  bed-time,  which  is  ten,  read  out,  with  the  satis- 
faction of  one  hearer  full  of  sensibility,  and  not  without 
sagacity,  and  with  the  comfort  that  I  am  endeavouring, 
as  I  ought,  to  raise  the  minds  of  my  young  hearers 
above 

'  the  common  rout ; 

Herds  without  name  no  more  remembered.' 

*  The  town  or  Fort. 


232  LIFE    OF   THE  [1805. 

"Among  our  readings,  or  rather  at  the  head  of  them, 
is  all  Addison  and  all  Milton,  the  two  purest  writers  in 
the  world,  though  the  one  was  exalted  and  the  other 
refined  into  purity.  You  may  remember  that  when  I 
used  to  indulge  myself  in  jargonising,  I  called  Milton 
an  idealist;  so  is  Addison,  only  he  lives  in  a  softer 
imaginary  world.  Milton  throws  his  own  moral  sub- 
limity over  the  mean  realities  of  life,  and  Addison's 
fancy  clothes  all  its  roughness  and  harshnesses  with 
moral  beauty.  Our  readings  in  Milton  produced  one 
good  effect — a  criticism  on  the  Allegro  and  Penseroso  in 
Lady  M.'s  journal,  less  idolatrous  than  Tom  Warton's, 
less  spiteful  than  Johnson's,  better  thought,  better  felt, 
and  better  worded  than  either.  I  was  very  much  struck 
with  the  effect  of  Dryden's  Virgil,  read  immediately  after 
Cowper's  Iliad  and  Odyssey ;  the  style  being  gone,  it 
seemed  a  flat  slavish  copy  of  Homer.  After  the  trumpet 
of  the  Iliad,  I  could  scarcely  keep  my  audience  awake 
with  the  adventures  of  our  pious  friend  ./Eneas.  I  do 
not  now  recollect  any  thing  remarkable  in  my  readings, 
but  very  great  admiration  of  Potter's  -^Eschylus. 

"Such  is  the  ' noiseless  tenor'  of  our  usual  day.  It  is 
sometimes  varied  by  the  necessity  of  '  going  to  Mecca 
with  the  caravan.'  We  are  occasional  conformists,  and 
sometimes,  either  abroad  or  at  home,  have  a  ceremonious 
dinner  of  thirty  persons,  arranged  according  to  principles 
of  such  cold  etiquette  as  would  breathe  dulness  over  the 
<  King  of  Clubs.' 

K  Nature  sometimes  furnishes  a  more  agreeable  variety 
to  our  day  than  these  mortal  dinners.  The  harbour  pre- 
sents many  fine  water-excursions,  and  we  have  an  elegant 
yacht,  belonging  to  the  Governor,  at  our  command.  The 
island  has  many  beautiful  and  picturesque  spots,  where 
we  occasionally  have  breakfast-parties  that  are  pleasant. 


1805.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  233 

You  need  not  fear  that  I  am  going  to  bore  you  by  a 
description  of  Elephanta  ;*  but  I  own  that  though  I  did 
not  go  to 

1  Wonder  with  a  foolish  face  of  praise ; ' 

though  I  have  not  an  atom  ofJonesian  superstition  about 
the  East,  I  was  very  much  struck  with  the  architecture 
and  sculpture,  and  somewhat  over-awed  by  the  sentiment 
of  their  antiquity.  One  mixed  excursion,  by  land  and 
water,  we  shall  begin  this  day  se'nnight,  round  and 
through  the  adjacent  island  of  Salsette,  extremely  cele- 
brated for  its  beauty,  and  which,  as  we  see  it  from  our 
windows,  must,  by  its  position  and  its  component  parts, 
unite  all  the  elements  of  the  finest  scenery.  You  shall 
hear  and  know,  not  what  we  saw,  but  what  we  felt,  in  it. 
Poonah  and  the  grand  mountains  (Ghauts),  which  sepa- 
rate us  from  it,  I  was  hindered  from  visiting  at  the  proper 
season  by  Lady  M.'s  illness,  and  shall  therefore  only  see 
next  year. 

"  Another  variety  of  our  life  is  a  monthly  meeting  of 
the  Literary  Society,  which  I  founded  and  opened  by  a 
discourse  de  ma  f aeon,  in  November.  I  thought  it  a  sort 
of  duty  to  try  something.  All  that  I  mean  to  do  is,  to 
tell  others  what  they  are  to  pursue,  why  they  ought  to 
seek,  and  how  they  will  best  attain  it.  The  comparative 
value  of  different  parts  of  knowledge,  the  intrinsic  value 
of  each,  and  the  rules  for  its  successful  cultivation,  are 
discovered,  estimated,  and  taught  by  Philosophy.  To 
contemplate  Oriental  matters  in  this  point  of  view,  is  not 
to  be  an  Orientalist,  but  a  philosopher.  Now,  philosophy 
is  my  trade,  though  I  have  hitherto  been  but  a  poor  work- 
man. I  observe  that  you  touch  me  with  the  spur  once  or 
twice  about  my  book  on  morals :  I  felt  it  gall  me,  for  I 

*  A  neighbouring  island,  in  which  are  excavations  celebrated  in 
Hindu  Mythology. 

20* 


234  LIFE    OF   THE  [1805. 

have  not  yet  begun,  and  I  shall  not  make  any  promises  to 
you  till  I  can  say  that  it  is  well  begun ;  but  I  will  tell  you 
what  has  either  really  or  apparently  to  myself  retarded 
me :  it  was  the  restless  desire  of  thoroughly  mastering 
the  accursed  German  philosophy.  This  I  am  constantly 
working  at,  but  I  am.  not  satisfied  that  I  have  quite 
accomplished  it.  I  must  at  least  fancy  that  my  book  is 
to  be  addressed  to  Europe  ;  but  with  what  colour  can  I 
indulge  such  a  fancy,  if  I  do  not  vindicate  my  funda- 
mental principles  (experience  and  utility),  against  that 
mode  of  philosophising  (for  the  difference  lies  deeper  than 
particular  doctrines),  which  prevails  among  the  most 
numerous  and  active  part  of  the  philosophical  world.  It 
is  vain  to  despise  them.  Their  opinions  will,  on  account 
of  their  number  and  novelty,  occupy  more  pages  in  the 
History  of  Philosophy,  than  those  of  us  humble  disciples 
of  Locke  and  Hartley.  Besides,  their  abilities  are  not 
really  contemptible.  It  seems  to  me,  that  I  am  bound 
not  only  to  combat  these  new  adversaries,  but  to  explain 
the  principle  and  grounds  of  their  hostility,  which  is  itself 
a  most  curious  confutation  in  detail.  I  only  mean  such  a 
view  of  an  extensive  country  as  one  takes  from  an  elevated 
spot.  With  all  this  preparation,  I  think  I  shall  begin  my 
book  next  June,  when  the  rains  put  an  end  to  exercise  for 
three  months.  I  hope,  by  the  end  of  the  monsoon,  to  get 
through  my  general  principles  of  morals.  In  reading, 

with  very  great  pleasure  and  admiration, 's  review  of 

Bentham,*  I  could  not  help  secretly  flattering  myself, 
that  I  stood  on  ground  so  high,  as  to  see  where  and  why 
they  were  both  right  and  wrong :  and  yet,  in  my  gloomy 
moments,  I  sometimes  fear  that  I  never  shall  commu- 
nicate this  notion  to  the  world. 

"  I  have  been  very  much  amused  and  exercised  by 

*  Ed.  Kev.  vol.  iv.  p.  1. 


1805.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR    JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  235 

Lord  Lauderdale  ;  *  but  I  know  not  how  it  is,  the  prin- 
ciples and  distinctions  have  slipped  out  of  my  mind  more 
quickly,  than  I  should  care  to  confess  to  any  body  but  a 
friend.  Is  it  that  he  borders  on  logomachy,  that  his 
speculations  are  too  remote  from  practice  ?  From  this, 
if  it  be  at  all  true,  I  must  except  the  excellent  parallel 
between  the  industry  of  England  and  France,  which  I 
think  one  of  the  most  satisfactory  and  important  pieces  of 
economical  history,  that  I  know.  I  meant  to  have  fixed  it 
in  my  mind  by  glancing  it  over  again,  and  writing  a  letter 
on  it,  for  it,  or  against  it,  as  it  might  happen,  to  Horner, 
by  these  despatches ;  but  I  am  hurried.  He  deserves  no 
letter  from  me,  and  shall  have  none,  till  he  sends  a  most 
prolix,  expiatory  epistle  ;  and,  indeed,  he  must  continue 
such  offerings  half-yearly  for  some  time,  before  he  ap- 
peases my  offended  honour. 

"  I  have  written  so  much,  and  to  so  many,  on  politics, 
that  I  have  shot  my  quiver.  I  hate  Buonaparte  :  I  hope 
little  from  continental  war  :  I  fear  the  exertions  of  Alex- 
ander must,  from  his  distance  and  his  personal  character, 
be  feeble,  and  from  the  panic  of  Germany,  will  be  unsup- 
ported. I  think  Pitt  not  the  man  to  rouse  them  from 
their  consternation.  I  do  not  believe  that  they  will  again 
trust  their  existence  to  his  fortune  ;  and  I  am  convinced 
he  has  done  more  harm  by  going  into  place  with  his 
creatures,  and  surrendering  the  country  to  the  King,  or 
his  advisers,  than  King  William  did  good ;  or  at  least  as 
much.  This  is  my  present  creed  on  temporary  politics. 

"  I  hope  you  live  much  with  the  Cidf  and  Chimene. — 
Catharine  is,  I  believe,  as  much  your  friend  as  I  am,  and 
she  is  more  worthy  of  being  yours.  I  will  not  say  she 

*  Inquiry  into  the  Nature  and  Origin  of  Public  Wealth,  by  the  Earl 
of  Lauderdale.  Edinb.  1804,  8vo. 

t  A  name  in  use  with  him  for  his  much-esteemed  friend,  the  Rev. 
Sydney  Smith. 


236  LIFE    OF    THE  [1805. 

has  quite  so  much  understanding,  but  she  has  more  genius 
and  more  heart  than  I  have. 

"  Remember  and  love  us  both,  as  we  do  you. 

"  Farewell.  I  am  very  unwilling  to  close  so  pleasant 
an  occupation  as  that  of  talking  to  you.  God  bless 
you. 

"JAMES  MACKINTOSH." 

Before  leaving  Fngland,  Sir  James  had  resolved  to  do 
all  in  his  power  to  promote  the  progress  of  knowledge 
within  the  future  sphere  of  his  influence ;  and  among 
other  means  of  effecting  that  purpose,  to  institute  at 
Bombay,  a  society  for  the  purpose  of  investigating  the 
philosophy,  sciences,  arts,  literature,  geography,  and  his- 
tory of  India.  He  was,  perhaps,  at  first  somewhat  dis- 
couraged by  finding  many  fewer  persons  at  the  Presi- 
dency who  took  an  interest  in  such  inquiries,  than  he 
had  expected.  From  the  early  period  of  life,  at  which 
all  gentlemen,  intended  for  the  civil  and  military  services 
in  India,  left  home,  few  of  them  could  have  received  the 
benefit  of  a  scientific  or  classical  education.  Their  early 
studies  had  had  a  practical  direction  ;  and  the  bustle  and 
activity  in  which  they  had  spent  their  lives  after  entering 
the  service,  had  left  little  leisure  for  pursuits  merely 
literary,  or  for  historical  investigations,  that  seemed  to 
terminate  in  mere  curiosity.  Yet  having  seen  much  of 
a  new  country  and  strange  manners,  they  had  something 
to  tell,  if  they  had  not  fallen  into  that  error  which  is  so 
difficult  to  be  shaken  off,  even  by  the  most  intelligent 
men  —  the  notion,  that  what  has  long  been  familiar  to 
themselves,  cannot  be  the  object  of  surprise  or  curiosity 
to  others.*  Besides,  few  of  them  had  any  habits  of 


*  There  are  hardly  any  volumes  in  which  this  difficulty  has  been 
better  overcome  than  in  the  writings  of  Captain  Basil  Hall ;  and  to  his 


1805.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  237 

writing,  except  on  official  concerns,  and  they  were  in 
general  unwilling  to  commit  themselves  on  what  to  them 
seemed  new  and  dangerous  ground.  Even  the  medical 
gentlemen,  whose  education  was  necessarily  more  com- 
plete, had  in  general  left  Europe  at  the  earliest  practicable 
period,  when  they  had  finished  the  studies  strictly  neces- 
sary for  their  admission  into  the  service,  in  order  that 
they  might  not  lose  rank,  which  depended  solely  on 
seniority ;  and  in  consequence  few  of  them  had  possessed 
leisure  or  opportunity  to  enter  deeply  into  those  important 
collateral  branches  of  study,  chemistry,  botany,  mine- 
ralogy, natural  history,  &c.,  for  an  acquaintance  with 
which  we  generally  look  to  the  members  of  that  profes- 
sion. Sir  James,  from  the  commanding  view  which  he 
took  of  the  varied  subjects  of  human  knowledge,  and  of 
their  comparative  value,  from  his  frank,  open  character, 
his  candour,  and  indulgence  for  every,  the  most  imperfect 
effort  to  please  or  instruct,  was  admirably  fitted  to  urge 
forward  and  direct  such  an  institution.  But,  perhaps, 
the  very  splendour  of  the  reputation  which  had  preceded 
him  to  India,  had  its  evils,  and  partially  obstructed  his 
designs.  Convinced,  however,  that  to  bring  together 
men  who  were  engaged  in  the  same  pursuit  was  the  best 
mode  of  kindling  their  zeal,  and  of  enabling  them  mutu- 
ally to  verify  the  extent  of  their  acquirements,  —  after 
some  previous  communication,  he  had  called  a  meeting  of 
several  of  the  leading  men  of  the  island  at  his  house  at 
Parell,  on  the  26th  day  of  November,  when  the  Literary 
Society  of  Bombay  was  formed,  of  which  he  was  elected 
President,  Mr.  (now  Sir  Charles)  Forbes,  Treasurer,  and 
Mr.  William  Erskine,  Secretary.  The  discourse  by  which 

success  in  giving  the  first  fresh  impressions  which  even  ordinary  objects 
and  situations  excite,  is  due  no  inconsiderable  part  of  that  uncommon 
interest  which  they  possess. 


238  LIFE    OF   THE  [1805. 

he  opened  the  proceedings  has  been  printed  in  the 
Transactions  of  the  Society.  It  contains  a  lucid  and 
comprehensive  view  of  the  objects,  literary,  scientific, 
and  moral,  of  the  institution,  stated  with  great  beauty 
and  without  exaggeration.  The  character  of  Sir  William 
Jones  is  a  piece  of  very  fine  writing. 

Of  the  original  members  of  the  Society,  Governor 
Duncan  was  a  proficient  in  the  Persian  tongue,  and  inti- 
mately acquainted  with  the  character  and  manners  of  the 
natives  of  India ;  Major  Edward  Moor  was  the  author  of 
an  interesting  narrative  of  the  proceedings  of  Lieutenant 
Little's  detachment,  which  threw  much  light  on  the 
habits  of  the  natives  of  the  interior  of  India,  and  on  the 
geography  of  parts  of  the  country  then  little  known ; 
Dr.  Eobert  Drummond  had  published  a  grammar  of  the 
language  of  Malabar ;  Major  David  Price,  who  has  since 
been  distinguished  by  his  Memoirs  of  Mohammedan  His- 
tory, and  other  valuable  works  on  Oriental  subjects,  was 
already  known  for  his  acquaintance  with  Persian  litera- 
ture ;  Colonel  Boden,  who  has  since  founded  the  Sanscrit 
professorship  at  Oxford,  had  made  some  progress  in 
Mahratta  learning ;  Captain  (the  present  Major-General 
Sir  Jasper)  Nicolls  was  one  of  the  first  to  promote  the 
views  of  the  society  by  his  remarks  on  the  temperature  of 
the  island  of  Bombay ;  and  Dr.  Helenus  Scott  was  known 
as  a  physician  by  various  chemical  speculations.  Lord 
Valentia  (now  Earl  of  Mountnorris),  and  Mr.  Salt  (after- 
wards Consul-General  in  Egypt),  being  then  in  Bombay, 
were  present  at  this  meeting,  and  became  members  of  the 
Society.  A  proposal  made  to  appoint  the  Governor 
Patron  of  the  Society  was,  after  some  conversation,  set 
aside,  on  the  ground  that,  as  a  literary  body,  it  should 
preserve  a  character  of  perfect  independence ;  an  opinion 
in  which  Mr.  Duncan  himself  warmly  concurred ;  con- 


1805.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR    JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  239 

ceiving  it  to  be  sufficient  honour  for  any  man  to  be 
allowed  to  forward  such  objects,  as  an  associate,  on  terms 
of  perfect  equality. 

The  Society  soon  after,  on  the  suggestion  of  the  Pre- 
sident, published  an  advertisement,*  intimating  an  inten- 
tion to  offer  annually  a  gold  medal,  as  a  prize  for  the 
best  essays  on  subjects  to  be  announced.  That  for  the 
first  year,  and  no  other  was  ever  published,  was  "  to 
illustrate  as  far  as  possible,  from  personal  observation, 
that  part  of  the  Periplus  of  the  Erythrean  sea,  which 
contains  the  description  of  the  coast  from  the  Indus  to 
Cape  Comorin."  Sir  James  translated  from  the  Greek 
the  portion  of  the  Periplus  referred  to,  which  was  printed 
for  distribution.  It  was  a  literal  translation,  with  a  few 
useful  notes,  containing  the  conjectures  of  former  writers 
as  to  the  appropriation  of  the  ancient  names  to  modern 
places.  No  essays,  however,  were  presented,  and  the 
plan  was  not  persisted  in. 

Soon  afterwards  a  plan  for  forming  a  comparative 
vocabulary  of  Indian  languages  engaged  his  attention. 
His  philosophic  views  enabled  him  to  see  that  the  execu- 
tion of  such  a  design  was  better  fitted  than  almost  any 
other  to  throw  light  on  the  descent  and  connection  of 
the  various  nations  of  the  East,  as  it  might  afford  data 
for  penetrating  far  beyond  the  period  of  recorded  history. 
His  plan  he  explained  in  a  paper,  read  in  the  Society  on 
the  26th  of  May,  1806,  exactly  two  years  after  he  landed 
in  the  island.  It  was  printed  and  circulated  at  the  time, 
and  has  since  been  reprinted  in  the  first  volume  of  the 
Society's  Transactions.  It  was  founded  on  the  celebrated 
Comparative  Vocabulary  of  the  Empress  Catharine,  and 
contained  about  two  hundred  and  fifty  additional  words. 
"  It  is  my  intention,"  says  he,  "  to  transmit  to  the  various 

*  Dated  31st  December,  1804. 


240  LIFE   OF   THE  [1805. 

governments  of  British  India,  a  list  of  words  for  an  Indian 
Vocabulary,  with  a  request,  that  they  will  forward  copies 
to  judges,  collectors,  commercial  residents,  and  magis- 
trates, directing  them  to  procure  the  correspondent 
terms  in  every  jargon,  dialect,  or  language  spoken  within 
the  district  committed  to  their  trust ;  and  respecting  the 
languages  spoken  without  the  Company's  territories,  that 
the  same  instructions  may  be  given  to  residents  at  the 
courts  of  friendly  and  allied  states,  as  far  as  their  influ- 
ence may  extend.  I  shall  propose  that  they  may  be 
directed  to  transmit  the  result  of  their  inquiries  to  me  ; 
and  I  am  ready  to  superintend  the  publication  of  the 
whole  vocabulary. 

"It  is  particularly  desirable  that  they  should  mark, 
with  great  precision,  the  place  where  any  one  language, 
dialect,  or  jargon,  or  variety  of  speech  ceases,  and  another 
begins ;  and  that  they  should  note,  with  more  than  ordi- 
nary care,  the  speech  of  any  tribes  of  men,  uncivilised, 
or  in  other  respects  different  from  the  Hindoo  race, 
whose  language  is  most  likely  to  deviate  from  the  general 
standard.  Mixed  and  frontier  dialects,  for  the  same 
reason,  merit  great  attention." 

The  plan  abounds  with  valuable  ideas,  and  shows  a 
profound  insight  into  the  subject.  Copies  of  it  were 
circulated  by  the  different  governments  of  India,  and  a 
few  returns  were  made,  but  not  sufficiently  numerous  for 
the  execution  of  the  original  design.  They  were  after- 
wards transmitted  to  the  late  Dr.  Leyden,  then  engaged 
in  similar  researches  on  a  very  large  scale;  for  which  he 
was  probably  better  qualified  than  any  other  European 
who  ever  visited  India. 

A  short  time  before  the  publication  of  the  Compara- 
tive Vocabulary  (Feb.  24,  1806),  Sir  James,  as  President 
of  the  Literary  Society  of  Bombay,  had  addressed  a  letter 
to  the  President  of  the  Asiatic  Society,  proposing  a 


1805.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  241 

general  subscription,  to  create  a  fund  for  defraying  the 
necessary  expenses  of  publishing  translations  of  such 
Sanscrit  works  as  should  seem  most  to  deserve  an  English 
version,  and  for  affording  a  reasonable  recompense  to  the 
translators,  where  their  situation  made  it  necessary.  It 
is  written  with  his  usual  extent  of  views  and  felicity  of 
language.  Some  difficulties  occurred  to  the  committee 
of  the  Asiatic  Society,  to  whom  the  letter  was  referred ; 
but  that  body  came  to  the  resolution  of  publishing,  from 
time  to  time,  in  volumes  distinct  from  the  Asiatic  Re- 
searches, translations  of  short  works  in  the  Sanscrit  and 
other  Oriental  languages,  with  extracts,  and  descriptive 
accounts  of  books  of  greater  length.  The  '  Notices  des 
Manuscrits  de  la  Bibliotheque  du  Hoi,  and  the  publica- 
tions of  the  Oriental  Translation  Fund '  (for  the  insti- 
tution and  support  of  which,  Eastern  Learning  owes  so 
much  to  the  Earl  of  Munster),  afford  practical  examples 
of  the  assistance  to  knowledge  that  may  be  afforded  by 
such  a  plan. 

Besides  the  fewness  of  its  members,  and  the  shifting 
nature  of  the  British  population  of  Bombay,  the  want  of 
a  good  library  was  much  felt,  as  retarding  the  progress 
of  the  society.  This  it  was  one  of  Sir  James's  last  acts, 
before  leaving  Bombay,  to  attempt  to  remedy.  When 
about  to  set  out  for  Europe,  he  was  requested,  and 
undertook,  to  send  out  a  coUection  of  the  standard 
books,  best  fitted  to  be  the  foundation  of  a  public 
library,  as  well  as  to  order  annually  the  principal  new 
publications,  as  they  appeared,  on  a  scale  suited  to  the 
funds  of  the  society.  The  consequence  has  been  the 
formation  of  an  extensive  and  very  valuable  library, 
which  has  given  the  members  the  means  of  improving 
themselves  in  various  branches  of  knowledge,  to  a  degree 
that  previously  was  altogether  impracticable.  —  The 
society,  which,  from  the  first,  was  never  vigorous,  lan- 

VOL.  i.  21 


242  LIFE    OF   THE  [1805. 

guished  still  more  in  the  course  of  two  or  three  years, 
and  did  not  revive  till,  at  a  future  time,  the  formation  of 
the  library  had  supplied  the  materials  and  means  of  study 
and  information.  It  has  subsequently  gained  strength, 
and  has  published  three  volumes  of  its  Transactions, 
which  hold  an  honourable  place  among  those  of  the 
Learned  Societies  of  the  East. 

But  though  opposed  at  first  by  a  somewhat  resisting 
medium,  Sir  James's  desire  to  diffuse  around  him  the 
benefits  of  his  acquirements,  was  never  relaxed.  Indeed, 
it  was  one  of  the  strongest  features  of  his  character.  To 
him,  solitary  or  unfruitful  acquisitions  were  as  nothing. 
He  delighted  in  pointing  out  the  road  to  knowledge,  and 
in  accompanying  the  adventurous  traveller.  Nobody, 
within  the  sphere  of  his  influence,  was  engaged  in  any 
work,  literary  or  scientific,  who  did  not  feel  the  benefit 
of  this  ardent  principle  of  his  nature.  He  was  consulted 
by  men  of  talent,  in  every  part  of  India,  on  their  literary 
projects.  It  was  by  his  advice  and  instigation  that 
Colonel  Wilks  was  induced  to  undertake  and  complete 
his  History  of  Mysore :  he  urged  General  Malcolm  to 
write  his  Political  History  of  India  :  and  that  able  man, 
when  he  discovered  his  own  powers,  was  encouraged  to 
proceed  with  the  other  works,  which  have  added  so  much 
to  his  reputation.  Colonel  Briggs's  valuable  translation 
of e  Ferishta '  was  undertaken  by  his  advice.  To  the  same 
cause  we  owe  Dr.  John  Taylor's  '-Lilawati,'  a  valuable 
Sanscrit  work  on  Arithmetic.  Mr.  Elphinstone  sub- 
mitted to  him  his  account  of  Caubul.  Indeed,  it  may 
in  general  be  affirmed,  that  no  valuable  work  was  under- 
taken, during  his  residence  in  Bombay,  in  which  he  had 
not  some  share,  by  his  advice  or  other  assistance.  In 
many  instances,  the  effects  of  his  guidance  and  encourage- 
ment did  not  become  manifest  till  long  after  he  had  left 
the  settlement. 


1805.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  243 

The  fragment  of  his  Life,  with  which  these  volumes 
commence,  was  written  by  him  in  August,  1804,  within 
three  months  after  he  arrived  in  India.  On  the  26th 
of  March,  1805,  he  commenced  in  the  same  volume  a 
Journal  in  these  words : — "  Six  months  have  idly  passed 
since  I  began  this  book,  with  the  intention  of  reviewing 
my  own  life.  As  I  may  resume  the  project,  I  leave 
sufficient  space  for  its  execution.  At  present,  I  intend 
to  begin  a  Journal  of  my  Studies,  in  which  my  first 
object  is  to  understand  the  theoretical  Morals  of  the 
Germans,  which  I  conceive  to  be  a  necessary  prelimi- 
nary to  my  own  work.  For  this  purpose,  I  shall  to- 
morrow begin  Reinhold's  Critique  on  Practical  Reason, 
or  his  Metaphysics  of  Ethics  and  of  Jurisprudence ;  to 
conclude  with  Fichte." 

Accordingly  his  Journal  is,  for  some  days,  almost 
exclusively  occupied  with  an  analysis  of  the  first  of 
these  works.  It  extends  to  a  length,  which  would  make 
it  too  severe  a  draught  upon  the  attention  of  any  but  a 
reader  desirous  of  entering  the  mazes  of  the  transcend- 
ental philosophy;  but  which  otherwise,  if  admissible, 
would  have  served  as  a  good  instance  of  the  sort  of 
occupation  (deserving,  at  least,  always,  the  character 
of  stremia  inertia],  which  delayed  and  diverted  his 
attention  from  his  varied  projected  efforts. 

"April  10th.  —  Read  the  fourth  and  fifth  letters  of 
Reinhold  this  morning,  and  was  about  to  have  abridged 
them,  as  well  as  to  have  reviewed  my  abridgment  of 
yesterday,  when  lo !  I  am  informed  that  the  Bussora 
packet  is  in  sight.  The  thin  spectres  of  metaphysics 
vanish  into  air,  when  they  are  brought  into  the  near 
neighbourhood  of  the  gross  realities  of  life.  We  are 
now  within  five  days  of  six  months  from  the  date  of  our 
last  London  Paper. 

"24th. — This  long  chasm  is  to  be  ascribed,  for  a  day 


244  LIFE   OF   THE  [1805. 

or  two,  to  the  European  newspapers; — then,  for  a  week, 
to  very  laborious  sessions,  which  left  me  considerably 
indisposed; — and  for  the  last  few  days  to  letters,  which 
I  sent  yesterday  by  Graev,  supercargo  of  the  Hamburgh 
ship,  to  M.  Gentz  at  Vienna,  to  MM.  Acerbi  and 
Degerando  at  Paris.  I  have,  however,  in  the  leisure 
hours  of  the  last  fortnight,  read  a  great  part  of  Spinoza's 
Tractatus  Theologo-Politicus,  which  has  struck  me  very 
much.  It  is,  I  suppose,  the  first  attempt  to  humanise 
the  Bible.  Its  tone  is  not  hostile.  There  is  a  sort  of 
naivete,  an  extreme  simplicity  in  the  manner,  in  the 
tranquillity  with  which  positions,  the  most  sure  to  startle 
his  readers,  are  presented  as  mere  obvious  conclusions  of 
reason,  which  is  very  characteristic  of  a  recluse  dogmatist, 
living  only  in  a  world  of  his  own  ideas,  knowing  and 
caring  nothing  about  the  opinions  and  prejudices  of  the 
men  around  him. 

"I  have  dipped  into  Tiedeman,  (Spirit  of  Specula- 
tive Philosophy,)  and  am  pleased  with  the  account 
which  he  gives  of  the  tendency  to  reform  the  popular 
religion,  which  prevailed  both  among  the  Greeks  and 
the  Jews  of  Alexandria,  in  the  century  before  the  Chris- 
tian era.  What  great  consequences  may  be  ascribed  to 
the  establishment  of  the  Greek  monarchies  of  Syria  and 
Egypt ! 

"  Yesterday  and  this  morning  I  have  glanced  over  the 
first,  and  part  of  the  second  volume  of  Lardner's  Credi- 
bility, which  seems  to  prove  very  well  the  antiquity,  and 
very  general  reception,  at  least,  of  the  four  Gospels. 

"  Having  thus  confessed  my  sins,  my  deviations  from 
settled  plan  into  desultory  reading,  I  now  resume  my 
accustomed  studies,  with  as  much  ardour  as  my  natural 
indolence,  aided  by  the  heat,  ninety  degrees  of  Fahren- 
heit's thermometer,  will  allow. 

"25th. — In  spite  of  my  resolution,  Lardner  led  me  to 


1805.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  245 

look  through  the  famous  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  chap- 
ters of  Gibbon.  I  could  not  lay  them  down  without 
finishing  them.  The  causes  assigned,  in  the  fifteenth 
chapter,  for  the  diffusion  of  Christianity,  must,  no 
doubt,  have  contributed  to  it  materially :  but  I  doubt 
whether  he  saw  them  all.  Perhaps  those  which  he 
enumerates  are  among  the  most  obvious.  They  might 
all  be  safely  adopted  by  a  Christian  writer,  with  some 
change  in  the  language  and  manner.* 

"  The  sixteenth  chapter  I  cannot  help  considering  as  a 
very  ingenious  and  specious,  but  very  disgraceful  extenu- 
ation of  the  cruelties  perpetrated  by  the  Roman  magis- 
trates against  the  Christians.  It  is  written  in  the  most 
contemptibly  factious  spirit  of  prejudice  against  the  suf- 
ferers ;  it  is  unworthy  of  a  philosopher,  and  of  a  man 
of  humanity.  Let  the  narrative  of  Cyprian's  death  be 
examined.  He  had  to  relate  the  murder  of  an  innocent 
man,  of  advanced  age,  and  in  a  station  deemed  venerable 
by  a  considerable  body  of  the  provincials  of  Africa,  put 
to  death  because  he  refused  to  sacrifice  to  Jupiter.  In- 
stead of  pointing  the  indignation  of  posterity  against  such 
an  atrocious  act  of  tyranny,  he  dwells,  with  visible  art, 
on  all  the  small  circumstances  of  decorum  and  politeness 
which  attended  this  murder,  and  which  he  relates  with 

*  This  view  of  the  question  may  derive  confirmation,  or  at  least, 
illustration,  from  comparing  Gibbon's  two  chapters  with  Dr.  Robertson's 
Sermon  on  the  state  of  the  world  at  the  time  of  the  appearance  of 
Christ.  The  sound  and  rational  observations  of  the  reverend  historian 
on  certain  facilities  afforded  to  the  diffusion  of  the  Gospel  by  the  previous 
state  of  the  public  mind,  and  of  public  affairs,  in  the  hands  of  Gibbon, 
or  of  any  other  author,  more  disposed  to  sneer  than  to  argue  candidly 
on  such  subjects,  would  admit  of  a  perversion  nearly  similar  to  that 
given  to  the  accidental  causes  which  he  has  enumerated ;  while  several 
of  Gibbon's  natural  causes,  changing  the  offensive  language  in  which 
they  are  conveyed,  might  fairly  have  been  expounded  as  perfectly  true 
and  efficient  from  any  pulpit. 

21* 


24 G  LIFE    OF   THE  [1805. 

as  much  parade  as  if  they  were  the  most  important 
particulars  of  the  event. 

"  Dr.  Robertson  has  been  the  subject  of  much  blame 
for  his  real  or  supposed  lenity  towards  the  Spanish 
murderers  and  tyrants  in  America.  That  the  sixteenth 
chapter  of  Mr.  G.  did  not  excite  the  same,  or  greater 
disapprobation,  is  a  proof  of  the  unphilosophical  and, 
indeed,  fanatical  animosity  against  Christianity,  which 
was  so  prevalent  during  the  latter  part  of  the  eighteenth 
century. 

"July  18th. — The  incorruptible  honesty  of  dates  shows 
me  a  shameful  chasm  in  my  studies.  Let  me  call  myself 
to  account. 

"  I  finished  Reinhold's  Letters,  but  was,  I  know  not 
how,  seduced  from  abridging  the  remainder  of  them. 
Several  new  publications  then  led  me  astray  from  my 
philosophical  course ;  —  reviews,  magazines,  newspapers, 
&c.  Among  them,  I  was  particularly  struck  with  the 
articles,  of  W.  Taylor,  of  Norwich,  in  the  l  Annual  Re- 
view.' It  is  easy  to  trace,  or  rather  it  is  impossible  to 
overlook  him.  I  was  struck  also  in  reading  the  political 
articles,  with  the  observations  on  Mr.  Burke,  whose  des- 
tiny it  is  to  be  misrepresented  —  witness  the  account 
given  here  of  the  decree  against  quarter  to  the  English 
and  Hanoverians.  I  examined  the  Moniteur,  to  be 
assured  of  the  falsehood  of  this  account,  and  I  had  no 
difficulty  in  ascertaining,  as  I  expected,  that  it  was 
totally  groundless.  I  afterwards  read  Gilbert  Wake- 
field's  Memoirs  with  considerable  interest ;  and  I  could 
not  read  them  without  observing  the  injustice,  sometimes 
unavoidable,  done  to  statesmen  and  magistrates.  There 
never  was  an  age  or  a  nation  in  which  G.  W.'s  pamphlet 
would  not  have  been  thought  punishable.  There  is  no 
quotable  writer  for  the  liberty  of  the  press,  who  would 
not  allow  that  it  was  so ;  yet,  when  his  literature  and 


1805.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR    JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  247 

his  sufferings  are  presented  to  the  mind,  long  after  the 
offence  has  ceased  to  be  remembered,  or  when  it  is  con- 
sidered only  as  part  of  the  uninteresting  political  contro- 
versies of  a  former  period,  sympathy  for  him,  and  indig- 
nation against  those  who  punished  him,  are  sure  to  be 
excited.  But  let  the  pamphlet  be  read ;  let  the  terrible 
danger  of  the  kingdom  be  remembered,  and  let  a  dispas- 
sionate reader  determine  whether  Mr.  Somers  would  not 
have  prosecuted,  if  he  had  then  been  Attorney-General, 
and  wrhether  Mr.  Locke,  if  he  had  been  one  of  the  jury, 
would  have  hesitated  to  convict. 

"Richardson's  Correspondence  is  certainly,  in  many 
parts,  rather  dull,  as  the  reviewers  justly  say ;  but  it  is 
the  dulness  of  Richardson  which  interests  me  more  than 
the  wit  of  most  reviewers.  The  book  is  a  picture,  and, 
on  the  whole,  a  most  amiable  picture  of  Richardson.  It 
contains  important  materials  for  literary  history.  Mrs. 
Barbauld's  Preface  is  altogether  excellent.  Her  account 
of  the  moral  of  '  Clarissa'  is  one  of  the  noblest  pieces  of 
mitigated  and  rational  Stoicism  in  the  world.  Her  objec- 
tion to  the  moral  of '  Pamela'  appears  to  me  over-refined 
and  under-reasoned.  His  object  is  to  dispose  young 
women  of  low  rank  to  good  conduct,  by  such  motives 
as  ivitt  tvork.  The  hope  of  marrying  a  squire,  though 
rather  profligate,  is  a  powerful  inducement.  This  is  a 
low  and  homely  morality,  to  be  sure ;  but  R,  in  this 
place,  aimed  no  higher. 

u  Besides  these  new  books,  I  have  read  some  Italian ; 
and  I  feel  more  inclination  for  that  beautiful  language 
than  at  any  former  period  of  my  life.  Several  volumes 
of  Tiraboschi,  and  Fabroni's  Elogi  of  Dante,  Ariosto, 
Tasso,  were  the  chief  subjects  of  my  Italian  rambles. 
The  history  of  Italian  poetry  in  the  famous  Cinque 
Cento,  is  extremely  amusing.  The  adventurous  and 
romantic  lives  of  the  poets  are  almost  as  interesting  as 


248  LIFE   OF   THE  [1805. 

their  works — I  wonder  that  the  misfortunes  of  Tasso 
have  not  oftener  been  employed 

'  To  point  a  moral,  or  adorn  a  tale.' 

"  Such  is  the  honest  confession  of  my  literary  infideli- 
ties. I  now  return  to  my  philosophy,  to  which  I  hope 
I  shall  be  constant.  I  shall  begin  with  Des  Cartes' 
Meditations  and  the  Objections,  Spinoza,  Hobbes  on 
Human  Nature,  Berkeley's  Principles  and  Dialogues, 
Hume  on  Human  Nature,  then  Kant." 

So  far  had  Sir  James  written ;  but  here  a  period  was, 
for  the  time,  put  to  his  daily  entries.  The  words, 
"  Hiatus  valde  deflendus,"  written  at  a  subsequent  time, 
close  the  literary  register  of  this  year.  A  few  of  the 
letters  written  by  him  at  this  period,  may  be  employed 
to  fill  the  chasm. 

TO   RICHARD    SHARP,   ESQ. 

"Pare//,  Bombay,  1st  June,  1805. 

"My  DEAR  SHARP,  —  Better  reasons  than  my  usual 
habits  of  procrastination  have  delayed  this  letter  till  the 
very  last  moment.  "We  have  been  in  momentary  expecta- 
tion of  our  China  ships,  by  which  I  expected  letters  likely 
to  soothe  and  rouse  my  mind,  and  to  dispose  me  better 
for  writing  to  my  friends ;  and  I  wished  to  wait  till  my 
eyes  were  recovered  from  a  weakness  which  they  have 
naturally  enough  contracted,  from  ten  hours'  reading 
and  writing  every  day,  in  the  glare  of  the  last  month, 
which  is  our  hottest  and  brightest  season.  But  neither 
the  winds  nor  the  small  arteries  of  my  eyes  will  do  as  I 
bid  them ;  I  must  therefore  write  you  a  horrid  scrap,  as 
I  am  resolved  never  to  miss  any  of  these  rare  occasions 
of  conversing  with  you,  which  my  fortune  allows.  I  have 
indeed,  in  the  common  way  of  speaking,  nothing  to  say ; 
but  I  feel  that  to  be  even  reminded,  when  I  have  no  need 


1805.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  249 

to  be  assured,  of  the  affection  of  a  distant  friend,  is  not 
twilling,  and  is  so  far  from  being  nothing,  that  it  is  much 
better  than  most  somethings ;  and,  as  I  am  very  willing 
to  ascribe  similar  feelings  to  my  friends,  I  write,  though 
it  be  only  to  repeat  my  thanks  for  all  your  kindness,  and 
for  your  remembrance  of  the  wants  of  our  exile.  One 
want  I  do  not  allow  that  you  sufficiently  provide  for ;  I 
mean  that  of  long  letters.  I  know  that  you  object  to 
them,  and  not  from  laziness  only.  I  know  also  that  it 
is  very  unsafe  to  differ  from  you,  especially  in  matters  of 
taste.  I  agree  with  you  in  general,  that  long  letters  have 
an  air  of  labour,  which  is  disagreeable  ;  besides,  they  are 
in  England  so  easily  avoidable,  that  they  afford  grave 
presumption  of  dulness  against  the  writer.  The  short- 
hand style,  of  hint  and  allusion,  is  so  much  more  con- 
versational, either  spoken  or  written,  that  it  is  infinitely 
more  pleasant,  as  well  as  more  convenient  in  letters ;  but 
to  use  it,  or  to  relish  it,  or  (I  had  almost  said)  to  under- 
stand it,  one  must  live  in  the  same  town,  and  the  same 
island,  at  least  in  the  same  zone,  or  the  same  hemisphere 
with  the  writer.  At  this  distance,  and  when  a  few  years 
shall  have  completely  un-Londonised  me,  I  cannot  under- 
stand allusions ;  and  before  that  fatal  moment,  it  is  surely 
natural  to  be  more  laboriously  kind  to  those  friends  who 
most  need  kindness.  It  is  natural  even  to  shoiv  this,  and 
to  show  it  with  some  anxiety.  To  those  very  distant 
friends  then,  who  very  much  need  and  desire  amusement, 
it  is  perfectly  natural  to  write  in  a  different  manner,  and 
at  much  greater  length,  than  when  one  sends  a  twopenny 
post  note  from  Mark-lane  to  Guilford-street.  I  know 
not  whether  I  have  proved  my  position,  but  I  am  not 
without  hopes  that  I  have  gained  my  point,  because  I 
have  shown  my  wishes. 

"  We  have  been  delighted  with  Cowper's  third  volume 
even  more  than  with  either  of  the  former.    His  mixture 


250  LIFE    OF   THE  [1805. 

of  playfulness  and  tenderness  is  very  bewitching.  He  is 
always  smiling  through  his  tears. 

"I  see  a  volume  of  poems  published  by  Henry  Kirke 
White,  of  Nottingham,  which  are  called  by  one  of  the 
Reviews  '  extraordinary  productions  of  genius.'  They 
are  published,  it  seems,  to  enable  the  author,  a  lad  of 
seventeen,  to  pursue  and  complete  his  studies.  I  par- 
ticularly request  that  you  will  read  the  volume,  and  that, 
if  you  find  it  deserves  but  some  part  of  the  praise 
bestowed  upon  it,  you  will  inquire  into  the  circumstances 
of  the  author,  and  give  him  for  me  such  assistance  as 
you  think  he  may  need,  and  as  I  ought  to  give.  If  you 
think  the  young  poet  deserves  it,  you  can  procure  the  con- 
tributions of  others.  You  can  scarcely,  indeed,  have  a 
poorer  contributor  than  I  am,  as  you  know  very  well; 
but  nobody  will  give  his  mite  more  cheerfully. 

"  I  am  still  employed  in  my  preparatory  reading,  but 
I  think  I  can  now  positively  foresee,  and  even  foretell, 
when  I  shall  begin  my  work.  The  German  philosophy, 
under  its  present  leader  Schelling,  has  reached  a  degree 
of  darkness,  in  comparison  of  which  Kant  was  noonday. 
Kant,  indeed,  perplexed  all  Europe ;  but  he  is  now  dis- 
dainfully rejected  by  his  countrymen  as  a  superficial  and 
popular  writer. 

"  Bloomfield,  I  think,  improves.  His  Vaccination, 
notwithstanding  the  unpromising  subject,  has  some 
beautiful  verses. 

"  How  flourishes  the  King  of  Clubs  ?  I  always  observe 
its  menswersary  in  my  fancy. 

"  There  are  two  men  to  whom  I  had  resolutely  deter- 
mined to  write  by  these  ships.  I  think  you  can  contrive 
to  convey  to  both  of  them  that  such  was  my  intention, 
and  that  it  has  only  been  defeated  by  my  weak  eyes — I 
mean  Dugald  Stewart  and  George  Wilson.  The  perfi- 
dious and  profligate  Horner,  instead  of  frequent  and 


1805.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  251 

voluminous  letters,  has  only  sent  me  two  scraps  of  intro- 
duction, neither  of  which,  however,  I  have  neglected. 
I  hope  we  shall  receive  your  '  Epistle]  *  by  these  ships. 
Remember  both  of  us  most  kindly  to  Boddington,  and 
to  the  worthy  G.  Philips,  to  whom  I  ought  to  have 
written  in  spite  of  my  eyes,  and  who  ought  to  have 
written  to  me  in  spite  of  my  silence.  I  need  not  men- 
tion Scarlett,  &c.  You  know  so  well  the  persons  whom 
I  love  and  esteem,  that  I  need  not  go  through  the  for- 
mality of  enumeration.  I  have  sent  to  young  Hoppner 
at  Calcutta,  introductions  to  all  my  acquaintances  there. 
Farewell. 

"Ever  yours,  affectionately, 

"J.  MACKINTOSH." 

TO   THE   REV.    ROBERT   HALL. 

"  Bombay,  2lst  September,  1805. 

"Mr  DEAR  HALL,  —  I  believe  that  in  the  hurry  of 
leaving  London  I  did  not  answer  the  letter  that  you 
wrote  to  me  in  December,  1803.  I  did  not, however, forget 
your  interesting  young  friend/}-  from  whom  I  have  had 
one  letter  from  Constantinople,  and  to  whom  I  have  twice 
written  at  Cairo,  where  he  is.  No  request  of  yours  could 
be  lightly  esteemed  by  me.  It  happened  to  me  a  few 
days  ago,  in  drawing  up  (merely  for  my  own  use)  a  short 
sketch  of  my  life,  that  I  had  occasion  to  give  a  statement 
of  my  recollection  of  the  circumstances  of  my  first  acquaint- 

*  One  of  those  poetical  effusions,  the  late  publication  of  which  has  given 
the  public  an  opportunity  of  so  cordially  ratifying  the  prior  encomiums 
of  Mr.  Sharp's  numerous  private  friends,  and  amongst  them,  of  him 

"  before  whose  philosophic  eye 

The  mists  that  cover  man's  best  knowledge  fly; 
Destined  his  country's  glories  to  record, 
And  give  her  chiefs  their  last — and  best  reward." 
t  See  page  201. 


252  LIFE   OF   THE  [1805. 

ance  with  you.  On  the  most  impartial  survey  of  my  early 
life,  I  could  see  nothing  which  tended  so  much  to  excite 
and  invigorate  my  understanding,  and  to  direct  it  towards 
high,  though,  perhaps,  scarcely  accessible  objects,  as  my 
intimacy  with  you.  Five-and-twenty  years  are  now  past 
since  we  first  met ;  yet  hardly  any  thing  has  occurred 
since,  which  has  left  a  deeper  or  more  agreeable  impres- 
sion on  my  mind.  I  now  remember  the  extraordinary 
union  of  brilliant  fancy,  with  acute  intellect,  which  would 
have  excited  more  admiration  than  it  has  done,  if  it  had 
been  dedicated  to  the  amusement  of  the  great  and  the 
learned,  instead  of  being  consecrated  to  the  far  more  noble 
office  of  consoling,  instructing,  and  reforming  the  poor 
and  forgotten.  It  was  then  too  early  for  me  to  discover 
that  extreme  purity  which,  in  a  mind  preoccupied  with  the 
low  realities  of  life,  would  have  been  no  natural  compa- 
nion of  so  much  activity  and  ardour,but  which  thoroughly 
detached  you  from  the  world,  and  made  you  the  inhabitant 
of  regions,  where  alone  it  is  possible  to  be  always  active 
without  impurity,  and  where  the  ardour  of  your  sensi- 
bility had  unbounded  scope  amidst  the  inexhaustible 
combination  of  beauty  and  excellence. 

"  It  is  not  given  us  to  preserve  an  exact  medium. 
Nothing  is  so  difficult  as  to  decide  how  much  ideal 
models  ought  to  be  combined  with  experience  —  how 
much  of  the  future  should  be  let  into  the  present,  in 
the  progress  of  the  human  mind.  To  ennoble  and  purify, 
without  raising  us  above  the  sphere  of  our  usefulness; 
to  qualify  us  for  what  we  ought  to  seek,  without  unfitting 
us  for  that  to  which  we  must  submit — are  great  and 
difficult  problems,  which  can  be  but  imperfectly  solved. 

"  It  is  certain  the  child  may  be  too  manly,  not  only 
for  his  present  enjoyments,  but  for  his  future  prospects. 
Perhaps,  my  good  friend,  you  have  fallen  into  this  error 
of  superior  natures.  From  this  error  has,  I  think,  arisen 


1805.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  253 

that  calamity,*  with  which  it  has  pleased  Providence  to 
visit  you,  which,  to  a  mind  less  fortified  by  reason  and 
religion,  I  should  not  dare  to  mention ;  and  which  I 
consider  in  you  as  little  more  than  the  indignant  struggles 
of  a  pure  mind,  with  the  low  realities  which  surround  it, 
— the  fervent  aspirations  after  regions  more  congenial  to 
it, — and  a  momentary  blindness,  produced  by  the  fixed 
contemplation  of  objects  too  bright  for  human  vision.  I 
may  say,  in  this  case,  in  a  far  grander  sense  than  that  in 
which  the  words  were  originally  spoken  by  our  great  poet, 

'  And  yet 

The  light  that  led  astray  was  light  from  heaven.' 

"  On  your  return  to  us  you  must  surely  have  found 
consolation  in  the  only  terrestrial  produce  which  is  pure 
and  truly  exquisite  in  the  affections  and  attachments 
you  have  inspired,  which  you  were  most  worthy  to 
inspire,  and  which  no  human  pollution  can  rob  of  their 
heavenly  nature.  If  I  were  to  prosecute  the  reflections 
and  indulge  the  feelings  which  at  this  moment  fill  my 
mind,  I  should  soon  venture  to  doubt  whether,  for  a 
calamity  derived  from  such  a  source,  and  attended  with 
such  consolations,  I  should  so  far  yield  to  the  views 
and  opinions  of  men  as  to  seek  to  condole  with  you. 
But  I  check  myself,  and  exhort  you,  my  most  worthy 
friend,  to  check  your  best  propensities,  for  the  sake  of 
attaining  their  object.  You  cannot  live  for  men  without 
living  with  them.  Serve  God,  then,  by  the  active  service 
of  men.  Contemplate  more  the  good  you  can  do,  than 
the  evil  you  can  only  lament.  Allow  yourself  to  see  the 
loveliness  of  nature  amidst  all  its  imperfections ;  and 

*  The  temporary  aberration  of  intellect  which  had  befallen  Mr.  Hall, 
and  his  recovery  from  which  prompted  the  present  letter,  is  well  known. 
Upon  his  medical  attendant,  Dr.  Arnold,  entering  his  room  one  day, 
during  its  continuance,  and  asking  him  how  he  felt  himself?  Mr.  Hall 
replied,  "  Oh !  Sir,  I've  been  with  Mackintosh  —  but  it  was  the 
Euphrates  pouring  into  a  tea-cup." 

VOL.  i.  22 


254  LIFE    OF   TILE  [1805. 

employ  your  moral  imagination,  not  so  much  by  bringing 
it  into  contrast  with  the  model  of  ideal  perfection,  as  in 
gently  blending  some  of  the  fainter  colours  of  the  latter 
with  the  brighter  hues  of  real  experienced  excellence ; 
thus  heightening  their  beauty,  instead  of  broadening  the 
shade,  which  must  surround  us  till  we  awaken  from  this 
dream  in  other  spheres  of  existence. 

u  My  habits  of  life  have  not  been  favourable  to  this 
train  of  meditation.  I  have  been  too  busy,  or  too  trifling. 
My  nature  would  have  been  better  consulted  if  I  had  been 
placed  in  a  quieter  situation,  where  speculation  might 
have  been  my  business,  and  visions  of  the  fair  and  good  my 
chief  recreation.  When  I  approach  you  I  feel  a  powerful 
attraction  towards  this,  which  seems  the  natural  destiny 
of  my  mind ;  but  habit  opposes  obstacles,  and  duty  calls 
me  off,  and  reason  frowns  on  him  who  wastes  that  reflec- 
tion on  a  destiny  independent  of  him,  which  he  ought  to 
reserve  for  actions  of  which  he  is  the  master. 

"In  another  letter  I  may  write  to  you  on  miscellaneous 
subjects ;  at  present  I  cannot  bring  my  mind  to  speak  of 
them.  Let  me  hear  from  you  soon  and  often.  Farewell, 
my  dear  friend. 

"  Yours  ever  most  faithfully, 

"  JAMES  MACKINTOSH." 

TO  GEORGE  PHILIPS,  ESQ. 

"  Parell,  Bombay,  September  25,  1805. 

"  MY  DEAR  PHILIPS,  —  I  began  last  night  to  read 
Walter  Scott's  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel,  as  part  of  my 
evening  readings  to  my  children.  I  was  extremely  de- 
lighted by  the  poetical  beauty  of  some  passages,  the  Abbey 
of  Melrose  for  example,  and  most  of  the  prologues  to  the 
Cantos.  The  costume,  too,  is  admirable.  The  tone  is 
antique ;  and  it  might  be  read  for  instruction  as  a  picture 
of  the  manners  of  the  middle  ages.  Many  parts  are,  how- 
ever, tedious ;  and  no  care  has  been  employed  to  make 


1805.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  255 

the  story  interesting.  On  the  whole,  I  have  read  nothing 
but  Cowper's  third  volume,  and  Miss  Edgeworth's  Tales, 
since  I  left  England,  which  has  pleased  me  so  much.  If 
all  Godwin's  Novel*  had  been  equal  to  the  opening  of 
the  third  volume,  I  should  have  preferred  it  to  them  all. 
Mrs.  Opief  has  pathetic  scenes,  but  the  object  is  not 
attained ;  for  the  distress  is  not  made  to  arise  from  the 
imnuptial  union  itself,  but  from  the  opinions  of  the 
world  against  it ;  so  that  it  may  as  well  be  taken  to  be  a 
satire  on  our  prejudices  in  favour  of  marriage,  as  on  the 
paradoxes  of  sophists  against  it.  On  the  whole,  your 
literature  has  not,  during  the  last  eighteen  months,  been 
brilliant.  But  what  nation  produces  much  in  eighteen 
months  ?  Except,  indeed,  my  friends  the  Germans,  who, 
in  less  than  that  time,  generally  produce  two  or  three 
entirely  new  systems  of  the  principles  of  human  know- 
ledge. They  have  at  present  a  new,  a  newer,  and  the 
newest  philosophy.  Their  metaphysical  fashions  change 
more  rapidly  than  the  fashions  of  Bond  Street,  and  for 
reasons  almost  as  frivolous  and  capricious. 

!|J  SjS  Jjt  ^J  Sj»  Sjt 

"  If  we  return  by  Cairo  and  Constantinople,  will  Mrs. 
Philips,  Sharp,  and  you,  meet  us  at  Vienna ;  go  with  us 
on  a  Swiss  and  Italian  tour,  and  then  return  home  through 
France,  if  Buonaparte  will  let  us?  In  the  spring  of 
1811,  or  1812, 1  hope  I  shall  be  on  the  Prater,  at  Vienna. 
I  shall  be  very  glad  to  see  our  old  friends  from  Man- 
chester peeping  out  of  their  carriage,  and  recognising  the 
sun-burnt  and  emaciated  Indian.  Write  me  often.  Lady 
M.  begs  to  be  most  affectionately  remembered  to  Mrs.  P. 
and  you.  And  I  am, 

"  My  dear  Philips, 
"  Ever  affectionately  and  faithful  yours, 

"  JAMES  MACKINTOSH." 

*  Fleetwood.  t  Adeline  Mowbray. 


256  LIFE    OF   THE  [1805. 

TO    DUGALD    STEWART,   ESQ. 

"  Bombay,  November  2,  1805. 

"  MY  DEAR  SIR,  —  I  am  ashamed  to  reflect  that  it  is 
more  than  a  year  since  I  received  your  most  agreeable 
letter  by  the  Snodgrasses.  I  have  had  many  intentions 
and  resolutions  to  write  to  you,  and  they  have  been 
defeated  by  combinations  of  circumstances,  which  now 
appear  trifling,  and  which  could  scarcely  be  recalled  by 
any  effort  of  recollection,  even  if  they  deserved  the 
exertion.  Some  honest  lazy  man  ought,  once  for  all,  to 
publish,  in  his  confessions,  a  full  account  of  all  his  acts  of 
procrastination  and  self-delusion,  for  the  edification  of 
his  brethren.  But  I  will  not  employ  the  little  time  I 
have  left  in  making  such  a  confession  to  you. 

"  To  begin  with  the  subject  of  your  letter,  your  young 
friends  I  have  frequently  seen ;  and,  when  they  again 
visit  the  Presidency  (so  we  call  the  capital  of  an  Indian 
government)  I  shall  not  forget  that  you  have  an  interest 
in  them.  They  are  now  in  Guzerat  with  their  regiments ; 
and  I  have  the  pleasure  to  tell  you  that  they  are  extremely 
well-spoken  of  by  those,  who  had  opportunities  of  more 
nearly  examining  them  than  I  had. 

"  I  am  extremely  obliged  to  Mr.  Playfair,  for  his 
Eloge.  I  know  so  little  of  geology,  that  far  from  making 
a  planet,  I  do  not  think  I  could  even  supply  a  friend  with 
a  mole-hill;  but  I  am  charmed  with  his  account  of  Dr. 
Button,  as,  indeed,  I  was  by  his  illustrations.*  In  many 
passages  of  both  I  was  struck  with  the  agreeable  spectacle 
of  the  mere  force  of  thought  and  knowledge,  shooting  and 
swelling  into  eloquence.  I  have  seldom  seen  more  hap- 
pily exemplified 

'  cui  lecta  potenter  erit  res, 

Nee  facundia  deseret  hunc.' 
I  have  the  pleasure  of  knowing  a  little  one  of  your  new 

*  Of  the  Huttonian  Theory. 


1805.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR    JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  257 

colleagues,  Mr.  Leslie,  from  whose  book  I  promise  myself 
great  enjoyment.  I  wish  I  knew  him  more  ;  but  my 
knowledge  of  him  is  sufficient  to  make  me  blush  for  the 
Presbytery  of  Edinburgh.*  If  I  were  to  compliment  with 
discussion  such  bigotry,  I  should  say,  that  nothing  has 
always  surprised  me  more  than  the  noise  made  by  the 
theologians  about  Mr.  Hume's  doctrine  of  causation. 
According  to  that  doctrine,  indeed,  it  was  impossible  to 
infer  a  designing  cause  from  the  arrangement  of  the 
world.  But  it  was  also  impossible  to  infer  antecedent 
fire  from  ashes.  Now,  no  theologian  in  his  senses  ever 
thought  the  first  inference  stronger  than  the  second. 
Whatever  puts  them  on  the  same  level  is,  in  truth,  enough 
for  the  purpose  of  the  theist.  It  matters  little  how  that 
happens.  To  be  equally  certain,  and  to  be  equally  uncer- 
tain, are  only  two  modes  of  speech  for  having  the  same 
degree  of  evidence.  A  system  of  universal  scepticism  (if 
that  be  not  a  contradiction  in  terms)  can  never  be  enti- 
tled to  rank  higher  than  as  an  exercise  of  ingenuity,  and 
an  amusement  of  contemplative  leisure.  It  is  impossible 
to  consider  as  serious,  attempts,  the  success  of  which  would 
render  all  reasoning  impossible,  and  all  action  absurd. 
Whoever  reasons  admits  by  his  act,  and  ought  to  admit  in 
words,  whatever  is  necessary  to  every  process  and  mode 
of  reasoning.  Will  you  allow  me  to  express  some  surprise 
at  your  considering  as  entitled  to  this  rank  the  doctrine 
of  the  independent  existence  of  a  material  world  ?  Eea- 
soning  and  practice  seem  to  me  to  require  no  more  than 
the  uniform  succession  of  our  perceptions.  You  have 
yourself  observed,  that  the  physical  sciences  would  not  be 

*  This  alludes  to  a  rather  warm  discussion  which  that  gentleman's 
claims  upon  the  Chair  of  Mathematics  in  the  University  of  Edinburgh 
met  with  in  the  Presbytery,  in  consequence  of  some  principles  laid  down 
in  his  work  on  "  Heat,"  then  lately  published,  supposed  to  be  identified 
in  some  degree  with  Mr.  Hume's  Theory  of  Causation. 

22* 


258  LIFE    OF   THE  [1805. 

destroyed  by  the  prevalence  of  Berkleianism ;  and  I  am 
sure  you  will  not,  with  Dr.  Beattie  and  Lord  Kenyon 
(whom  I  heard  quote  this  part  of  Dr.  B.  with  approbation) 
oblige  the  Berkleian  to  leap  over  Dover  cliff,  as  a  pledge 
of  his  sincerity,  and  as  a  test  of  the  truth  of  his  opinions. 
"  I  am  naturally  led  to  this  subject  by  two  circum- 
stances.   The  first  is  a  conversation  I  yesterday  had  with 
a  young  Bramin,  of  no  great  learning,  the  son  of  the 
Pundit  (or  assessor  of  Hindu  law)  of  my  court.    He  told 
me,  besides  the  myriads  of  gods  whom  their  creed  admits, 
there  was  one  whom  they  know  only  by  the  name  of 
BRIM,  or  the   Great  One,  without  form  or  limits,  whom 
no  created  intellect  could  make  any  approach  towards  con- 
ceiving; that  in  reality  there  were  no  trees,  no  houses,  no 
land,  no  sea,  but  all  without  was  MAIA,  or  illusion,  the  act 
of  BRIM;  that  whatever  we  saw  or  felt  was  only  a  dream, 
or,  as  he  expressed  it  in  his  imperfect  English,  thinking 
in  one's  sleep ;  and  that  the  re-union  of  the  soul  to  BRIM, 
from  which  it  originally  sprung,  was  the  awakening  from 
the  long  sleep  of  finite  existence.     All  this  you  have 
heard  and  read  before,  as  Hindu  speculation.     What 
struck  me  was,  that  speculations  so  refined  and  abstruse 
should  in  a  long  course  of  ages,  have  fallen  through  so 
great  a  space  as  that  which  separates  the  genius  of  their 
original  inventors  from  the  mind  of  this  weak  and  unlet- 
tered man.   The  names  of  these  inventors  have  perished, 
but  their  ingenious  and  beautiful  theories,  blended  with 
the  most  monstrous  superstitions,  have  descended  to  men 
very  little  exalted  above  the  most  ignorant  populace,  and 
are  adopted  by  them  as  a  sort  of  Articles  of  Faith,  without 
a  suspicion  of  their  philosophical  origin,  and  without  the 
possibility  of  comprehending  any  part  of  the  premises  from 
which  they  were  deduced.   I  intend  to  investigate  a  little 
the  history  of  these  opinions ;  for  I  am  not  altogether 
without  apprehension  that  we  may  all  the  while  be  mis- 
taking the  hyperbolical  effusions  of  mystical  piety  for  the 


1805.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  259 

technical  language  of  a  philosophical  system.  Nothing 
is  more  usual,  than  for  fervent  devotion  to  dwell  so  long 
and  so  warmly  on  the  meanness  and  worthlessness  of 
created  things,  on  the  all-sufficiency  of  the  Supreme 
Being,  &c.,  that  it  slides  insensibly  from  comparative  to 
absolute  language  ;•  and,  in  the  eagerness  of  its  zeal  to 
magnify  the  Deity,  seems  to  annihilate  every  thing  else. 
To  distinguish  between  the  very  different  import  of  the 
same  words  in  the  mouth  of  a  mystic  and  a  sceptic, 
requires  more  philosophical  discrimination  than  any  of  our 
Sanscrit  investigators  have  hitherto  shown.  But  enough 
of  this  at  present.  The  young  Pundit  has  scarcely  left 
me  room  for  the  other  circumstance  which  led  me  to 
speak  of  your  zealous  anti-Berkleianism.* 

"  A  nephew  of  Dr.  Eeid,  a  young  gentleman  of  the 

name  of  R ,  has  lately  come  out  here  as  a  cadet, 

recommended  to  me  by  my  invaluable  friend,  George 
Wilson,  and  by  a  very  ingenious  and  worthy  person, 
though  not  without  the  peculiarities  and  visions  of  a 
recluse,  Mr.  Ogilvie,  of  King's  College,  Aberdeen.  I 
treated  him  with  the  kindness  which  such  recommen- 
dations deserved ;  arid  I  could  not  help  reflecting,  with 
some  melancholy,  how  little  kindness  the  respectable 
memory  of  a  philosopher  was  likely  to  procure  to  this 
young  man  among  the  English  in  India.  I  know  not 
whether  it  arose  from  this  circumstance,  or  from  my 
greater  need,  in  this  intellectual  desert,  of  being  soothed 
and  refreshed  by  these  exquisite  pieces  of  philosophical 
biography;  but  I  had  taken  down  of  late,  more  frequently 
than  usual,  the  lives  of  Smith,  Robertson,  and  Reid.  In 
the  last  there  is  a  tranquillity  which  I  have  felt,  as  it 
were,  breathe  a  consolatory  calm  over  my  mind,  not 
altogether  unlike  the  effect  of  some  of  the  most  delightful 

*  See  Mr.  Dugald  Stewart's  observations  on  this  letter,  Elements  of 
the  Philosophy  of  the  Human  Mind,  vol.  ii.,  p.  501. 


260  LIFE   OF   THE  [1805. 

/ 

moral  Essays  of  Addison.  I  am.  not  very  certain  that  this 
impression  might  not  be  aided  by  the  recollections  of  some 
feelings  and  projects  of  my  youth,  when  my  most  ardent 
ambition  was  to  have  been  a  professor  of  moral  philo- 
sophy. The  picture  of  the  quiet  and  independence  of  that 
station,  for  which  I  think  I  was  less  unqualified  than  for 
any  other,  has  a  very  powerful  effect  upon  me,  generally 
very  pleasant,  but  sometimes  chequered  by  a  slight  and 
transient  envy, 

'  Dum  limpida  longe 

Flumina  Parnassi,  doctaeque  beata  cohortis 
Otia  prospicio,  quse  non  mihi  fecit  Apollo.' 

u  I  have  attempted  to  do  something  here,  by  going 
very  much  out  of  my  own  province.  I  have  tried  a  lite- 
rary society ;  but  I  fear  it  is  only  '  singing  the  Lord's 
song  in  a  strange  land.'  I  am  now  employed  in  attempting 
to  throw  into  order  some  speculations  on  the  origin  of  our 
notions  of  space  and  time,  of  poor  Tom  Wedgwood,  whom 
you  saw  in  London.  I  find  considerable  difficulty  in 
doing  it  at  this  distance  from  the  thinker  himself.  I 
heartily  wish  that  he  had  committed  this  task  to  his 
friend,  Mr.  Leslie,  who  seems  so  admirably  qualified  for 
giving  form  and  language  to  philosophical  opinions.  After 
the  completion  of  this  labour  of  friendship,  which  has 
proceeded  with  a  tardiness  for  which  I  bitterly  reproach 
myself,  I  shall  enter  on  the  execution  of  my  own  projects. 

"  I  am  very  desirous  of  seeing  what  you  say  on  the 
theory  of  Ethics.  I  am  now  employed  on  what  the  Ger- 
mans have  said  on  that  subject.  They  agree  with  you  in 
rejecting  the  doctrine  of  personal  or  public  interest,  and 
in  considering  the  moral  principle  as  an  ultimate  law.  I 
own  to  you  that  I  am  not  a  whit  more  near  being  a  Kan- 
tian than  I  was  before ;  yet  I  think  much  more  highly 
of  Kant's  philosophical  genius  than  I  did,  when  I  less 
perfectly  comprehended  his  writings. 


1805.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  261 

A 

"  I  have  not  yet  seen  our  friend  Degerando's  book,  on 
the  History  of  Systems,  with  respect  to  the  principles  of 
knowledge,  &c.,  but  I  observe  that  the  German  Review 
allows  him  to  understand  Kant,  an  astonishing  conces- 
sion from  them  to  an  unbeliever  in  their  philosophy,  a 
foreigner,  and  especially  a  Frenchman. 

"  I  have  nothing  here,  it  is  true,  to  divert  me  from  the 
execution  of  my  plans ;  but  I  have  very  little  to  animate 
and  support  me  during  the  work.  I  carry  with  me,  to 
every  country,  one  companion,  very  capable  of  exercising 
my  understanding,  and  of  amusing  my  hours  of  relaxation ; 
well  qualified  to  rouse  me  from  lethargy,  to  soothe  my 
occasional  irritations,  and  to  console  me  under  dejection. 
Little  as  I  saw  of  Mrs.  Stewart,  I  saw  enough  to  be  sure 
that  'you  can,  from  experience,  appreciate  the  value  of 
such  a  companion. 

"  I  beg  that  you  will  convey  most  respectful  and  affec- 
tionate remembrances  from  Lady  M.  and  from  me,  to 
Mrs.  Stewart;  to  my  old  and  excellent  friends,  Laing 
and  Gillies,  to  Mr.  H.  Erskine,  to  Lord  Woodhouselee, 
Mrs.  Tytler  and  their  family,  and  to  Mr.  Henry  Mac- 
kenzie. I  tremble  to  ask,  yet  I  long  to  know  something 
of  the  condition  of  my  unfortunate  friend  Wilde. 

"I  am  not  without  hopes  that  you  will  sometimes 
write  to  me.  You  can  have  little  notion  of  the  value  of 
such  memorials  of  our  friends  to  us  at  this  distance. 

"  I  wish  I  could  prevail  on  Laing,  who  has  nothing  to 
do  but  to  write  histories,  to  become  my  correspondent. 

"  Very  few  persons,  indeed,  will  expect,  with  more 
eager  impatience,  the  continuation  of  your  great  work ; 
and  nobody,  I  am  convinced,  can  with  more  perfect  truth 
subscribe  himself, 

"  My  dear  sir, 

"  Your  most  faithful  and  affectionate  humble  servant, 

"JAMES  MACKINTOSH." 


262  LIFE   OF   THE  [1805. 

TO   KICHAKD    SHARP,   ESQ. 

"Pare//,  Bombay,  Nov.  2,  1805. 

"My  DEAE  SHARP, 

*  *  *  * 

"  We  have  just  recovered  from  a  pretty  brisk  alarm 
about  the  combined  squadron.  We  were  mounting  all 
our  rusty  guns,  and  had  even  gone  so  far  as  to  give  orders 
for  a  rendezvous  for  the  women,  &c.  I  fear  the  West 
India  merchants  have  no  great  cause  to  exult  in  our 
escape. 

"  Lord  Cornwallis  has  been  dying  on  his  way  up  the 
country ;  and  as  he  was  disposed  to  make  concessions 
to  the  enemy  for  peace,  and  retrenchments  at  home  for 
the  sake  of  his  masters,  it  seems  to  be  the  general 
opinion  of  Bengal  that  he  cannot  die  too  soon.  The 
dashing  and  showy  politics  of  his  predecessor  have  car- 
ried away  all  the  popularity  at  Calcutta  and  Madras.  All 
we  can  do  here  (at  Bombay)  is  to  receive  Persian  ambas- 
sadors. We  have  one*  just  arrived  here  who,  among 
other  remarkable  pieces  of  state,  was  attended  by  four 
hangmen,  with  their  axes  on  their  shoulders,  on  his  visit 
of  ceremony  to  the  governor,  and  on  his  receiving  us  at 

his  house.  B follows  or  leads  the  mob  in  Welles- 

leianism,  and  writes  me  that  moderation  is  cockney  cwd  I 
So  you  see  he  has  not  been  two  years  at  Calcutta  for 
nothing. 

"We  are  perfectly  enchanted  with  Walter  Scott's 
1  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel.'  He  is  surely  the  man  born  at 
last  to  translate  the  Iliad.  Are  not  the  good  parts  of  his 
poem  the  most  Homeric  of  any  thing  in  our  language. 
There  are  tedious  passages,  and  so  are  there  in  Homer. 

*  Mahomed  Nubbee  Khan. 


1805.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR    JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  263 

"  I  rather  think  that  you  had  not  much  read  Metastasio ; 
I  scarcely  ever  looked  into  him  till  this  year.  I  have 
read  with  the  greatest  delight '  Isaaco/  of  which  Mr.  Fox 
spoke  to  Rogers;  but  I  think  there  are  several  other  of 
the  sacred  dramas  not  perceptibly  inferior  to  it.  I  parti- 
cularly allude  to  '  Joseph/  and  the  '  Death  of  Abel.'  He 
is  altogether  a  poet  of  a  much  higher  order  than  I  sup- 
posed. One  of  his  volumes  contains  a  translation  of 
Horace's  Letters  to  the  Pisos,  and  an  extract,  with  obser- 
vations, of  Aristotle's  Poetics.  Both  disappointed  me 
exceedingly ;  the  first  by  being  so  much  below,  and  the 
second  by  being  so  very  much  above  my  expectations.  It 
is  one  of  the  most  ingenious  and  philosophical  pieces  of 
criticism  I  ever  read.  It  has  more  good  sense  and  novelty 
on  the  Unities  than  are  to  be  met  anywhere  else  within 
the  compass  of  my  reading.  If  you  suspect  me  of  exag- 
geration, you  have  only  to  read  the  book,  which  will  not 
occupy  more  than,  two  Sundays  at  Fredley,  and  will  even 
leave  full  time  for  your  learned  eye  to  circumnavigate  the 
valley  from  Boxhill  to  Norbury  Park.  I  wonder  it  has 
not  been  translated.  I  never  saw  it  mentioned  but  once, 
vaguely,  though  panegyrically,  by  Joe  Warton,  in  one 
of  the  notes  to  his  Pope.  I  think  part  of  it  above  his 
reach. 

"  I  am  plunging  as  deeply  as  I  can  into  metaphysics ; 
and,  notwithstanding  all  my  shameful  procrastinations, 
I  believe  I  may  venture  at  last  confidently  to  say,  that 
the  next  ship  will  certainly  carry  to  England  poor 
T.  Wedgwood's  speculations. 

"  I  wrote  a  long  metaphysical  letter  to  Dugald  Stewart 
this  morning.  I  have  been  cantering  on  my  Arab  with 
Lady  M.  since  dinner ;  and  it  is  now  pretty  late  in  the 
evening  for  a  man  who,  with  very  short  interruptions, 
has  been  at  his  desk  since  sunrise;  so  that  my  mind 
and  body  are  too  much  exhausted  to  add  much  to-night, 


264  LIFE    OF   THE  [1805. 

and  to-morrow  will  be  too  late  for  the  '  Retreat.'    Fare- 
well, then,  &c.  &c. 

"  Believe  me  ever 

"  Yours,  most  affectionately, 

"JAMES  MACKINTOSH." 

The  death  of  Marquis  Cornwallis,  of  which  an  expec- 
tation is  expressed  in  the  foregoing  letter,  took  place 
at  Ghazepore  on  the  5th  October,  1805,  soon  after 
he  arrived  in  India,  and  produced  a  strong  sensation  in 
that  country.  His  former  administration  had  been  suc- 
cessful, and  his  honest,  upright  character  was  universally 
respected.  The  state  of  public  affairs  was  still  unsettled 
after  the  war  with  the  Mahratta  states,  which  could  hardly 
be  considered  as  yet  ended.  He  was  looked  up  to  as,  on 
the  whole,  the  person  best  fitted  to  restore  public  confi- 
dence, as  much,  perhaps,  from  the  reputation  which  he 
had  acquired  during  his  former  government,  the  influence 
of  which  was  still  powerful  with  the  native  powers,  as 
from  his  talents.  In  proportion  to  the  bitterness  of 
the  disappointment,  was  the  degree  of  regret  shown  at 
the  event.  Every  mark  of  respect  was  heaped  on  his 
memory.  A  general  mourning  took  place,  and  a  funeral 
service  was  performed  at  all  the  presidencies  of  India. 
Mr.  Duncan,  who  had  been  patronised  and  promoted  by 
the  Marquis,  and  was  desirous  of  showing  all  honour  to 
his  memory,  requested  as  a  personal  favour  of  Sir  James, 
that  he  would  write  the  sermon  to  be  preached  at  Bom- 
bay on  the  occasion,  a  request  with  which  he  readily 
complied.  It  was  published  at  the  time  under  the  name 
of  the  Senior  Chaplain,  and  is  chiefly  remarkable  for  the 
address  with  which  the  fullest  praise  is  given  to  the 
generous  and  useful  qualities  that  Lord  Cornwallis  pos- 
sessed, without  the  exaggeration  which  in  such  cases  it  is 


1805.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  265 

so  difficult  to  avoid.  There  is  great  skill  in  the  mode  in 
which  the  misfortunes  of  his  public  life  are  touched 
upon.* 

It  having  been  resolved  at  a  public  meeting  of  the 
British  inhabitants  of  Bombay,  to  erect  a  statue  of  the 
Marquis  in  some  conspicuous  part  of  the  fort,  Sir  James, 
who  was  one  of  the  committee  appointed  for  carrying  the 
resolutions  into  effect,  wrote  the  following  letter  to 
Mr.  Flaxman,  though,  from  some  cause  with  which  we 
are  not  acquainted,  the  work  was  finally  executed  by 
another  artist  of  eminence,  Mr.  Bacon.  Whether  the 
letter  ever  reached  its  address,  therefore,  is  uncertain. 
But  the  principles  of  taste  which  it  contains,  are  so  well 
unfolded,  and  it  is  altogether  so  valuable  as  a  piece  of 
elegant  composition,  that  it  would  hardly  be  just  to 
withhold  it. 

TO    JOHN   FLAXMAN,   ESQ.,   R.  A. 

"  Bombay,  20th  December,  1805. 

"  SIR,  —  The  British  inhabitants  of  this  Presidency 
have  resolved  to  erect  a  statue  to  the  late  Marquis  Corn- 
wallis.  As  one  of  the  Committee  appointed  for  that 
purpose  I  naturally  turned  my  thoughts  towards  you,  for 
reasons  which  it  might  be  indelicate  to  mention  to  you, 
and  which  it  must  be  unnecessary  to  state  to  any  one 
else.  It  is  enough  to  say  that  I  feel  very  great  solicitude 
to  leave  to  our  most  distant  successors,  whoever  they 
may  be,  not  only  a  memorial  of  the  honour  in  which  we 
hold  public  virtue,  but  an  example  of  the  progress  of  art 
in  England  in  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century. 
The  neighbouring  subterraneous  temples  of  Elephanta, 
Canari,  and  Carli  contain,  perhaps,  the  most  ancient 

*  Even  before  leaving  England,  his  pen  had  been  at  least  once 
employed  in  promulgating  religious  truth  from  the  pulpit. 
VOL.  I.  23 


266  LIFE   OF   THE  [1805- 

sculptures  in  the  world.  Twenty  or  thirty  centuries 
hence,  some  nation,  whose  name  is  now  unknown,  may 
compare  these  works  of  barbaric  toil  with  the  finished 
productions  of  the  genius  and  taste  of  an  English  artist. 
Without  your  help  I  do  not  think  that  the  comparison 
would  be  fair,  or  the  contrast  complete.  We  have  there- 
fore resolved  to  request  your  assistance. 

"Though  our  acquaintance  be  slight,  we  have  so 
many  common  friends,  that  I  hope  you  know  me  too 
well  to  suppose  me  capable  of  the  egregious  folly 
of  giving  instructions  for  a  work  of  art.  In  the  arts 
which  require  great  expense,  it  is  too  much  the  tendency 
of  circumstances  to  subject  skill  to  the  commands  of 
ignorance ;  and  this  is  one  of  the  chief  obstacles  to  the 
progress  of  these  arts.  I  shall  not  be  an  accomplice  in 
this  conspiracy  of  wealth  against  genius.  I  shall  give 
no  instructions ;  but  I  shall  endeavour  to  answer  very 
shortly,  by  anticipation,  such  questions  as  I  suppose  you 
would  immediately  put  to  me,  if  fifteen  thousand  miles 
of  sea  and  land  were  not  between  us. 

"The  subscriptions  will,  I  think,  be  sufficient  to 
remove  all  painful  restraints  of  economy.  The  statue 
is  to  be  of  the  natural  size,  or  larger  than  life,  but  not 
colossal ;  pedestrian,  with  such  basso-relievos  and  subor- 
dinate figures  as  you  may  judge  most  characteristic  and 
ornamental.  I  need  not  tell  you  that  the  character  of 
Marquis  Cornwallis  was  more  respectable  than  dazzling. 
I  am  persuaded  that  you  will  find  pleasure  in  employing 
an  art,  too  often  the  flatterer  of  tyranny,  to  give  lustre 
to  the  virtues  most  useful  to  mankind.  Prudence, 
moderation,  integrity,  pacific  spirit,  clemency,  were  very 
remarkable  qualities  in  Marquis  Cornwallis's  character. 
Perhaps  his  establishment  of  a  system  of  secure  landed 
property  in  Bengal  (since  extended  over  India),  might 
furnish  some  hints  to  your  genius.  It  was  a  noble  mea- 


1805.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  267 

sure  of  paternal  legislation,  though  I  know  not  whether 
it  could  be  represented  in  marble.  Details  would,  I 
believe,  be  useless ;  but  if  you  wish  to  know  them,  either 
my  friend,  Mr.  Grant,  Chairman  of  the  East  India  Com- 
pany, or  my  friend,  Mr.  Richard  Johnson,  of  Pall  Mall, 
will  give  you  the  fullest  information.  The  first  of  these 
gentlemen  will  of  course  communicate  with  you  directly, 
as  he  is  one  of  our  Committee  in  England  for  this 
purpose ;  and  if  you  should  happen  not  to  know  the 
second,  our  friend  Rogers  will,  if  you  desire  it,  bring 
you  together. 

"  We  shall  be  very  desirous  of  receiving  instructions 
from  you  on  the  position  of  the  statue.  In  that  respect 
we  are  not  very  favourably  circumstanced.  "We  have  no 
large  unoccupied  space,  in  the  midst  of  which  it  could 
well  be  placed.  We  have  no  hall  or  public  building  fit 
to  receive  it.  My  rude  and  general  notions  on  the 
position  of  a  statue,  which  I  mention  to  bring  out  your 
ideas,  are  as  follow: — 

"  Convenience  and  the  permanence  of  the  monument  require 
that  all  statues,  which  are  neither  equestrian  nor  colossal, 
should  be  sheltered  from  the  inclemency  of  the  seasons, 
and  especially  from  the  violence  of  tropical  rains ;  very 
hard  to  be  conceived  by  those  who  are  so  fortunate  as 
not  to  have  left  Europe. 

"  Beauty  and  effect  seem  to  require  that  the  position 
should  be  conspicuous ;  that  it  should  be  one  in  which 
the  person  represented,  in  the  character  given  to  him, 
might  really  have  been ;  and  that  it  should  be  sufficiently 
removed  from  masses  of  building,  to  prevent  its  being 
obscured  by  them,  and  confounded  with  them ;  and  that 
the  position  should  not  only  be  compatible  with,  but,  as 
far  as  possible,  peculiarly  appropriate  to,  the  character, 
attributes,  and  adjuncts  of  the  statue. 

"  If  you  should,  as  I  suppose,  be  of  opinion  that  this 


268  LIFE   OF   THE  [1805. 

statue  should  be  under  cover,  we  shall  be  obliged  to 
erect  an  edifice  for  its  reception.  In  that  case,  one  or 
two  questions  will  arise.  The  building  may  be  made  to 
appear  to  be  constructed  merely  as  a  shelter  for  the 
statue,  and  to  be  exclusively  applied  to  that  end ;  or  it 
may  be  so  constructed  as  to  appear  intended  for  other 
public  purposes  (which  it  may  really  serve),  and  to 
receive  the  statue  as  an  ornament.  Which  do  you 
think  the  better  place,  as  a  question  of  taste  ?  The 
objection  which  occurs  to  me  against  the  first  is  that, 
as  we  are  not  idolaters,  no  reason  or  pretext  can  be 
assigned  for  the  building,  and  no  character  given  to  it, 
except  that  of  mere  shelter,  which  is  ignoble,  at  least  in 
public  monuments ;  though  very  agreeable,  even  to  the 
imagination,  in  private  and  domestic  architecture.  A 
snug  temple,  or  a  comfortable  palace,  are  not  combinations 
that  the  fancy  is  very  prone  to  make. 

"The  destination,  real  or  apparent,  of  the  building 
to  any  other  purpose,  might  be  supposed  to  break  in 
upon  the  exclusive  consecration  of  the  monument.  This 
might  be  obviated,  and  perhaps  the  general  effect  even 
increased,  by  appearing  to  connect  the  whole  edifice  in 
another  manner  with  the  memory  of  the  dead,  as  by 
calling  it  the  Cornwallis  Hall,  the  Cornwallis  Library, 
&c.  In  any  of  these  cases,  you  will  have  the  goodness 
to  inform  us,  what  proportion  the  size  of  the  room 
ought  to  bear  to  the  statue ;  or,  what  is  much  better, 
send  us  a  sketch  of  a  building,  with  size,  form,  &c. 
particularised. 

"I  leave  it  to  your  taste  to  determine  whether  a 
public  building,  destined  for  a  Library  and  Hall  of 
Meeting  for  a  Literary  Society,  or  for  any  other  public 
purpose  (for  I  choose  this  only  as  a  specimen),  ought, 
in  this  country,  to  be  Grecian,  or  to  partake  of  Mussul- 
man or  Hindoo  architecture.  The  Mussulman  archi- 


1805.]  EIGHT   HON.    SIR    JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  269 

lecture  is  as  foreign  as  the  Grecian;  and  the  native 
Hindoo  buildings  neither  want  beauty  nor  picturesque 
effect,  as  Mr.  Daniell's  Pictures  will  sufficiently  show, 
even  to  those  whose  travels  are  not  more  extensive  than 
the  circuit  of  London. 

"  Mr.  Grant,  under  whose  cover  this  note  is  trans- 
mitted, will  negociate  with  you  on  all  those  matters, 
which  are,  unfortunately,  too  important  to  the  artist, 
though  quite  unconnected  with  the  art.  I  shall  be 
happy  and  flattered  by  your  correspondence  on  this  or 
any  other  object,  and  I  am, 
"Dear  Sir, 

"  Yours  very  faithfully, 

"JAMES  MACKINTOSH. 

"There  are  so  many  likenesses  of  Lord  Cornwallis 
to  be  seen  in  England,  that  I  suppose  you  will  have 
no  difficulty  on  that  score.  The  costume  of  India  is 
now  also  quite  accessible  in  London,  if  you  should  wish 
it  for  your  subordinate  figures.  As  to  the  principal 
figure,  there  is  more  reason  at  home  than  here  for 
sacrificing  beauty  and  freedom  to  the  local  and  tem- 
porary costume" 

In  the  October  Sessions  of  this  year,  a  case  occurred 
which  naturally  exercised  a  sensitive  mind  very  pain- 
fully. The  official  duties  of  a  judge  in  Bombay  had, 
at  that  time,  difficulties  of  a  peculiar  kind.  The  Court 
of  the  Recorder  had  been  but  recently  instituted.  Jus- 
tice had  previously  been  administered  by  the  Mayor's 
Court — a  body  consisting  of  a  mayor  and  aldermen, 
chosen  by  the  local  government,  generally  from  the 
civil  servants  of  the  establishment,  or  the  leading  mer- 
chants of  the  place ;  men  who,  whatever  might  have 
been  their  talents,  could  of  course  have  had  no  legal  edu- 

23* 


270  LIFE    OF   THE  [1805. 

cation,  and  who  could  possess  little  systematic  acquaint- 
ance with  the  principles  of  law.  This  constitution  of  the 
Court  was  particularly  objectionable,  where  a  system  of 
law,  so  complicated  as  that  of  England,  was  to  be  adminis- 
tered. The  judges,  too,  it  may  be  supposed,  were  too 
much  connected  in  trade,  in  official  business,  or  in  private 
society,  to  be  any  check  upon  each  other.  The  Governor, 
who  exercised  the  powers  of  the  Government,  had  obvious 
means  of  benefiting  or  injuring  every  one  of  them  in  his 
promotion  or  his  commercial  interests.  The  attorneys 
practised  also  as  counsel,  but  had  seldom  had  any  training 
in  a  regular  court  of  justice.  A  greater  defect  than  any 
of  these  was,  that  there  was  no  public.  The  English 
were  still  few  in  number,  a  circumstance  which  gave 
them  less  the  spirit  of  a  public  than  of  a  caste.  The 
natives,  whose  causes  were  tried  in  a  language  which 
they  did  not  understand,  and  often  by  laws  of  the  exist- 
ence of  which  they  were  ignorant,  were  still  less  entitled 
to  that  appellation. 

To  remedy,  in  some  degree,  those  evils,  a  Court  had 
been  instituted  in  1798  by  Royal  Charter,  under  au- 
thority of  an  Act  of  Parliament,  in  which  a  Recorder, 
(who  was  to  be  a  barrister  of  at  least  five  years'  standing), 
appointed  by  his  Majesty,  was  to  preside,  the  mayor 
and  aldermen  still  continuing  to  sit  on  the  bench  as 
judges.  The  departments  of  the  barrister  and  attorney 
were  separated. 

The  new  Court  had  been  opened,  and  for  some  years 
presided  over  by  Sir  William  Syer,  the  first  Recorder, 
with  much  integrity  and  skill.  The  arrival  of  English 
barristers  early  raised  the  respectability  of  the  Bar,  which 
soon  needed  only  numbers  to  render  it  very  effective. 

Great  as  this  improvement  was,  it  is  plain,  however, 
that  certain  defects  of  the  former  system  must  have  con- 
tinued to  adhere  to  the  new  one.  As  there  are  no  juries 


1805.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  271 

in  India  in  civil  cases,  the  natives  still  saw  on  the  Bench 
judges  whom  they  believed  that  they  had  the  means  of 
propitiating  in  the  ordinary  course  of  trade ;  and  the 
supposition,  of  which  it  is  so  difficult  to  divest  them, 
that  the  influence  of  particular  bodies  or  classes  of  men 
could  make  itself  be  felt,  was  in  no  case  altogether 
removed.  The  same  evils  were  not  less  felt  in  criminal 
cases.  Sir  James  took  his  place  on  the  Bench  only  six 
years  after  the  institution  of  the  new  Court.  Every  case 
in  any  degree  criminal,  in  which  an  European  of  con- 
sideration was  concerned,  naturally  excited  the  passions 
of  so  small  a  society.  This  was  in  a  particular  manner 
evinced  in  a  trial  which  took  place  at  the  period  that  has 
been  mentioned,  where  the  Custom-Master  of  Bombay 
was  convicted  of  receiving  sundry  sums  of  money  as  gifts 
or  presents,  contrary  to  the  statute,  33  Geo.  III.  c.  52, 
to  sanction  the  clandestine  exportation  of  grain.  It  is 
unnecessary  to  detail  the  proceedings  of  the  trial,  which 
has  been  separately  published ;  they  excited  a  great  deal 
of  that  factious  spirit  that  so  easily  rises  in  a  small  com- 
munity. These  feelings  found  their  way  even  into  the 
ordinary  intercourse  of  social  life.  The  duty  of  the  Judge 
left  him  but  one  course  to  pursue,  and  steering  clear  of 
the  passions  of  all  parties,  he  pursued  it  firmly,  yet 
calmly.  His  forbearance  was  not  however,  by  all  at 
least,  appreciated  as  it  deserved.  "  I  understand,"  says 
he,  in  a  letter  to  a  friend,  written  a  few  months  after  the 
trial,  "  that  I  was  treated  in  the  grossest  manner.  There 
was  no  liberal  public  opinion  to  support  me,  and  no  firm 
government  to  frown  down  indecent  reflections  on  the 
administration  of  justice.  All  this,  I  will  own  to  you, 
disgusted  and  almost  silenced  me  for  a  time ;  but  I  soon 
recovered,  though,  in  so  narrow  a  society,  I  shall  probably 
always  feel  a  little  the  consequences  of  this  act  of  duty, 
at  least  enough  to  sharpen  my  appetite  for  England." 


272  LIFE   OF   THE  [1805. 

The  observations  which  were  painfully  forced  upon 
him  in  the  course  of  this,  and  of  some  other  trials,  turned 
his  attention  to  the  nature  and  constitution  of  the  courts 
in  India,  and  he  formed  a  plan,  apparently  of  an  ex- 
tremely moderate  and  practical  kind,  for  in  some  degree 
lessening  their  defects,  both  on  the  criminal  and  civil 
sides  of  the  Court.  This  he  communicated  pretty  fully, 
at  a  future  period,  to  his  friend  Mr.  George  Wilson.  In 
a  letter  (July  26th,  1807)  to  that  eminent  lawyer,  he 
says: — «In  India,  no  court  need  consist  of  more,  or 
ought  to  consist  of  less,  than  two  judges,  which  would 
suppress  one  judge  at  Calcutta,  and  one  at  Madras,  and 
establish  a  supreme  court  here  (this  would  be  a  saving 
of  at  least  10,000£)  a  year;  that  cross-appeals  should  be 
granted  between  the  three  Courts  at  the  present  appeal- 
able sum;  that  the  judgment  of  the  second  Court  should 
be  final  in  all  cases  not  exceeding  10,000  rupees ;  and 
that  there  should  be  a  power  of,  as  it  were,  changing  the 
venue  for  another  Presidency,  in  criminal  proceedings 
against  Europeans,  where  the  Courts  should  deem  it  con- 
ducive to  justice.  More  than  two  judges  are  nowhere 
necessary,  and  with  less  there  is  no  advice  in  difficulty, 
no  encouragement  against  clamour,  no  protector  and 
witness  against  calumny,  no  provision  for  necessary  ab- 
sence in  dangerous  illness,  and  no  immediate  successor 
in  case  of  death.  The  present  appellant-system  is,  in  all 
causes  of  moderate  value,  from  its  delay  and  expense,  a 
mere  mockery ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  that  delay  and 
expense  render  it  an  instrument,  in  the  hands  of  rich 
men,  for  wanton  and  oppressive  appeals.  At  present  the 
Courts  do  and  may  differ  in  their  law ;  indeed,  it  is  only 
by  accident  that,  in  a  country  without  an  open  press,  we 
can  know  any  thing  of  each  other's  judgments.  Cross- 
appeals  would  make  justice  quicker  and  cheaper,  and 
render  legal  decisions  uniform.  The  power  of  changing 


1805.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  273 

the  venue  would  make  the  conviction  of  peculation  pos- 
sible, which  it  scarcely  now  is,  either  in  England,  from 
the  difficulty  of  collecting  distant  evidence,  or  in  their  own 
Presidency,  where  their  connexions  and  perhaps  popula- 
rity, are  enemies  too  formidable  for  public  justice  ;  and, 
on  the  other  hand,  it  would  prevent  those  vexatious 
animosities  which  are  the  price  that  small  communities 
must  pay  for  the  conviction  of  a  powerful  delinquent." 
The  justice  of  many  of  these  views  has  lately  been 
recognised  by  their  adoption,  in  the  changes  which  have 
recently  been  made  by  the  Legislature  in  the  Courts  of 
India,  and  especially  in  that  of  Bombay. 


274  -LIFE   OF   THE  [1805. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

EXCURSION   TO    POONAH —  LETTERS   TO   MR.    SHARP  —  TO    MR.  G.MOORE  —  TOM. 

DEGERANDO NEWS  OF  THE  WAR  IN  GERMANY LETTERS  TO  M.  GENTZ TO 

MR.    WINDHAM ERECTION    OF   A  COURT    OF   VICE-ADMIRALTY CASE  OF  THE 

"  MINERVA." 

ON  the  termination  of  the  proceedings  connected  with 
the  trial  alluded  to,  Sir  James  made  a  short  excursion  to 
Poonah,  then  the  capital  of  the  Mahratta  empire,  having 
been  invited  thither  by  Colonel  (afterwards Major-General 
Sir  Barry)  Close,  the  British  Resident  at  the  court  of 
His  Highness  Bajee  Rao,  the  Peshwa.*  A  few  notices, 
in  his  own  words,  will  carry  the  reader,  it  is  hoped  not 
unwillingly,  with  him;  they  are  extracted  from  a  journal, 
which,  with  very  unequal  degrees  of  care  at  different 
times,  it  was  commonly  his  habit  to  keep.  When  at  home, 
it  was  confined  chiefly  to  observations  upon  books ;  but 
when  travelling,  as  on  the  present  occasion,  it  comprised 
all  those  little  details  of  feeling  and  incident  which  ordi- 
narily supply  materials  for  letters,  of  which  it  indeed 
took  the  place,  being  thrown  off  generally  every  evening, 
and  transmitted,  as  occasion  offered,  to  her  whose  amuse- 
ment and  instruction  was  ever  amongst  the  first  objects 
of  his  life.  This  was  the  case  throughout  the  whole  of 
his  residence  in  the  East,  more  particularly  towards  the 
close  of  it,  when  Lady  Mackintosh's  ill  health,  and  conse- 

*  The  Peshwa,  it  is  well  known,  was  the  Prime  Minister  of  the 
Rajahs  of  Sattara.  His  ancestors,  for  nearly  a  century,  had  kept  the 
Rajah  in  custody,  and  governed  his  dominions  with  absolute  power,  in 
his  name,  as  "  Maires  du  Palais." 


1805.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  275 

quent  departure  for  Europe,  afforded  unfortunately  a 
more  lasting  occasion  of  separation,  and  indeed  during 
the  remainder  of  his  life,  whenever  the  same  cause 
recurred.  The  frequent  recurrence  of  an  address  in  the 
second  person,  in  the  midst  of  remarks  generally  abstract, 
will  be  thus  explained. 

"  Sungum,  near  Poonah,  December  28th.  —  I  closed 
the  last  journal  with  the  Deo,  or  Incarnate  Deity  of 
Chincore.  His  family  have  enjoyed  the  privilege  of 
Godhead  for  about  eight  generations.  In  their  hands 
it  is  not  a  barren  privilege ;  lands  and  revenues  amount- 
ing to  50,000  rupees  a  year,  are  settled  on  this  divinity 
and  his  ministers.  The  first  grants  of  land  were  made 
to  him  by  Sevajee,  the  founder  of  the  Mahratta  greatness, 
who  died  in  the  year  1680.  His  presence  has,  on  many 
occasions,  proved  a  blessing  to  the  sacred  land.  Holkar, 
when  he  ravaged  most  unmercifully  all  the  neighbouring 
country,  spared  the  districts  allotted  to  the  Deo.  This 
intrepid  and  ferocious  adventurer,  though  utterly  devoid 
of  morality,  or  of  common  humanity,  is  the  slave  of 
superstition.  He  is  not  even  satisfied  with  his  native 
nonsense;  he  is  so  eager  to  pry  into  futurity,  and  to 
secure  all  chances  of  the  favour  of  invisible  powers,  that 
he  attempts  to  unite  the  most  inconsistent  superstitions. 
He  shows  the  greatest  honour  to  Musselman  prophets, 
and  saints ;  and  while  he  is  ambitious  of  appearing  as  the 
hero  of  Braminism,  and  the  deliverer  of  India,  he  copies 
the  rites  of  the  oppressors  of  his  country,  and  the  bitterest 
enemies  of  his  religious  faith. 

"  The  example  of  persons  with  no  restraints  of  huma- 
nity, and  yet  under  the  absolute  tyranny  of  superstition, 
is  not  uncommon.  The  Crusaders,  when  they  took 
Jerusalem,  after  an  indiscriminate  butchery  of  all  the 
inhabitants,  of  all  sexes  and  ages,  burst  into  tears  at  the 


276  LIFE   OF   THE  [1805. 

sight  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre.  An  Irish  Eoman  Catholic, 
in  1641,  after  having  been  engaged  in  the  most  bloody 
scenes  of  the  Irish  massacre,  is  said,  on  coming  into  a 
house,  to  have  unawares  eaten  meat  on  a  Friday,  and, 
having  discovered  his  sin,  to  have  betrayed  all  the  agonies 
and  horrors  of  remorse.  —  But  to  return :  — 

"  We  did  not  leave  Chincore  till  about  seven  yester- 
day morning.  We  rode  slowly  on,  till  we  came  to  a 
river  about  half  way,  where  we  found  Colonel  Close,  Cap- 
tain Sydenham,  Mr.  Go  wan,  Major  Skelton,  and  Major 
Eichardson,  of  the  Bombay  establishment,  waiting  to 
receive  us.  We  dismounted  on  both  sides.  Captain 
Sydenham  introduced  me  to  Colonel  Close,  whose  coun- 
tenance, and  even  figure  (though  he  is  much  taller,  and 
less  unwieldy),  struck  me  as  having  some  resemblance  to 
Charles  Fox.  We  remounted  our  horses,  and  resumed 
our  ride,  Colonel  Close  in  the  centre,  I  on  his  right,  and 
Captain  Sydenham  on  my  right.  Our  party  was  now 
also  increased  by  some  important  personages,  in  whose 
company  I  never  had  the  honour  of  riding  before,  and 
whose  singular  appearance  would  (I  was  fearful)  discom- 
pose the  tranquillity  of  my  Lord  Chancellor  of  a  horse. 
These  were  three  state  elephants  belonging  to  the  Resi- 
dency. The  purpose  of  their  attendance  will  presently 
appear.  Signor  Cavallo  beheld  them  undisturbed.  After 
having  jogged  on  about  two  miles,  we  saw,  at  a  hill  called 
Gunnesh  Candy  (or  the  hill  of  Gunnesh),  the  prepara- 
tions made  for  my  reception  by  the  Mahratta  Chiefs. 
We  soon  arrived  at  the  spot  intended  for  the  interview. 
About  a  thousand  Mahratta  horse  were  drawn  up  on  both 
sides  of  the  road.  I  looked  at  them  with  some  curiosity, 
as  a  specimen  of  that  terrible  cavalry,  who  had  wasted  the 
greater  part  of  India,  and  subdued  so  large  a  portion  of 
it.  Sydenham  told  me  they  were  a  fair  sample.  Their 
countenance  and  air  were  in  general  martial,  and  even 


1805.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR    JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  277 

fierce ;  their  bodies  more  robust  than  any  other  Indians, 
except  the  watermen,  whom  I  had  seen ;  their  clothes 
(they  seemed  to  have  no  uniform)  and  arms  appeared  to 
be  in  the  most  neglected  state ;  their  horses  were  of  the 
most  various  sorts — some  very  wild,  and  some  very  mean 
— none,  that  I  could  observe,  showy. 

"When  we  had  got  about  the  middle  of  this  body 
of  cavalry,  the  trumpets  and  tomtoms*  announced  the 
immediate  approach,  of  the  Sirdar.^  We  found  a  little 
carpet  spread  in  the  middle  of  the  road.  The  Mahrattas 
and  we  dismounted  at  the  same  moment.  We  met  on 
the  carpet.  I,  agreeably  to  my  instructions,  first  saluted 
four  or  five  of  the  inferior  Chiefs,  and  then  embraced 
Kistnajee  Bhowannee,  the  Deputy  Dewan,  or  Under 
Minister  of  Finance,  the  head  of  the  deputation  sent 
by  the  Peshwa  to  congratulate  me  on  my  arrival  in 
the  capital  of  his  dominions.  After  this  ceremony,  we 
squatted  ourselves  on  the  carpet.  As  I  had  on  leather 
breeches,  and  had  not  been  bred  a  tailor,  I  found  the 
operation  troublesome,  and  the  posture  not  very  agree- 
able. 

"When  we  had  taken  our  seats,  Kistnajee,  through 
Colonel  Close  said, ( he  hoped  my  health  was  well  after 
my  journey.'  I  answered,  through  the  same  channel, 
'  that  it  was,  and  that  I  hoped  I  found  them  in  perfect 
good  health.' 

"30th.  —  I  now  resume  the  journal,  after  two  days' 
interruption. 

K  The  Mahratta  Minister  then  said,  '  that  the  Peshwa 
was  extremely  solicitous  that  my  reception  should  be 
becoming  and  honourable.'  I  answered,  'that  I  was 
particularly  nattered  and  honoured  by  being  the  object 
of  his  Highness's  solicitude.'  Kistnajee  observed, e  that 

*  A  sort  of  drum.  f  Generals  or  chief  men. 

VOL.  I.  24 


278  LIFE   OF   THE  [1805. 

they  considered  every  visit  from  an  English  gentleman 
of  rank,  like  myself,  as  a  new  pledge  of  the  intimate 
connexion  between  the  two  governments.'  To  which  I 
answered/ that  I  hoped  the  harmony  and  alliance  might 
prove  perpetual.'  After  this  conversation,  I  gave  each 
of  the  members  of  the  deputation  two  little  parcels  of 
betel,  wrapped  up  in  leaves,  dropped  two  very  small 
spoonfuls  of  ottar  of  roses  on  their  hands,  and  poured 
rose  water  over  them.  At  this  interview  they  were  con- 
sidered as  my  guests ;  and  these  are  the  ceremonies  by 
which  it  is  politely  intimated  to  visiters  in  this  country, 
that  they  are  at  liberty  to  conclude  their  visit.  It  would 
be  a  good  expedient  in  Europe  to  get  rid  of  bores ;  but 
with  us,  where  visits  either  are,  or  profess  to  be  made 
partly  for  the  pleasure  of  conversation,  it  would  be  obvi- 
ously to  tell  the  guest,  that  he  has  no  longer  the  means 
of  amusing  us.  Among  the  Asiatics,  where  visits  are 
merely  complimentary,  the  master  of  the  house  may, 
when  he  pleases,  without  the  least  reflection  on  his 
guests,  put  an  end  to  a  ceremony  of  which  the  object  is 
purely  to  honour  himself. 

u  My  guests  of  the  highway  having  taken  their  leave, 
I,  in  company  with  Captain  Sydenham,  for  the  first  time 
in  my  life,  mounted  an  elephant,  on  which  we  made  our 
entrance  into  the  Residency.  We  climbed  up  Mst  or 
rather  her  side,  by  a  ladder,  and  seated  ourselves  in  the 
houdah,  which  might  have  held  three  persons.  Its  walls, 
if  I  may  so  call  them,  were  plated  with  silver.  The  form 
was  oblong.  The  inside  was  lined  with  crimson  velvet — 
a  seat  with  cushions  was  raised  behind,  and  a  convenient 
hollow  for  the  feet  before.  When  we  were  mounted,  the 
elephant,  on  a  signal  given,  rose  from  the  kneeling  pos- 
ture, which  he  had  been  made  to  assume,  to  facilitate  our 
ascent.  We  held  fast  the  front  of  the  houdah  while  she 
was  moving  her  enormous  mass.  The  height  at  which 


1805.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  279 

we  were  seated  when  the  elephant  was  erect,  was  about 
twelve  feet. 

"  The  procession  to  the  Residency  was  arranged  in  the 
following  order  : — In  front,  two  hurkarus,  or  couriers,  of 
Colonel  Close's,  in  scarlet,  mounted  on  camels.  Then 
a  small  party  of  the  seapoys  of  his  escort.  Afterwards 
several  chubdars,  &c.  in  scarlet.  Then  the  gentlemen 
on  horseback :  and  lastly,  the  three  state  elephants ;  on 
one  of  which  Captain  Sydenham  and  myself  rode.  We 
reached  the  Residency  at  about  half-past  nine,  and  we 
found  the  Resident's  guard  drawn  up  to  salute  me,  and 
a  salute  from  the  cantonment  of  the  subsidiary  force  was 
fired  at  the  same  moment. 

"  The  Residency,  which  is  at  the  sungum  (or  conflu- 
ence of  two  rivers),  abqut  a  mile  from  Poonah,  was 
originally  an  object  of  great  jealousy  to  the  Mahrattas, 
who  were  very  unwilling  to  permit  any  house  to  be 
erected,  and  who  were  only  prevailed  upon  to  tolerate 
the  building  of  bungalow  after  bungalow,  as  necessity, 
or  at  least  very  urgent  convenience,  might  seem  to 
require.  From  this  circumstance  it  has  happened,  that 
the  Residency  is  a  set  of  bungalows,  scattered  over  the 
point  of  the  sungum.  I  was  shown  immediately  to  my 
bungalow,  which  communicated  with  Colonel  Close's  by 
a  covered  passage,  and  which  had  been  fitted  up  con- 
veniently and  luxuriously  by  Captain  Sydenham,  during 
his  short  residency.  It  is  scarcely  worth  describing; 
but  as  I  have  time  and  paper  enough,  I  shall  give  an  idea 
of  it.  In  the  centre  is  an  excellent  bed-room  carpeted, 
with  a  bed,  dressing-table,  &c.,  such  as  I  have  not  seen 
in  India.  The  back  verandah  is  a  dressing-room,  with 
a  bath  at  each  end.  In  the  front  verandah,  which  was 
carpeted,  and  filled  with  European  furniture,  were  a 
piano-forte,  sofa,  and  a  writing-table  and  apparatus  ready 
for  me. 


280  LIFE    OF   THE  [1805. 

"After  breakfast,  I  felt  myself  somewhat  fatigued, 
and  I  lay  on  the  sofa  for  some  time.  About  two  we 
had  tiffin,*  and  we  did  not  dine  till  seven.  The  morn- 
ing was  very  agreeably  whiled  away  in  conversation 
with  Captain  Sydenham,  whom  I  like  very  much. 

"  In  the  evening  we  had  a  metaphysical  discussion,  in 
which  Colonel  Close  took  a  very  eager  and  vigorous  part. 
It  arose  in  my  statement  of  the  secret,  or  philosophical 
opinions  of  the  learned  Bramins,  which  seemed  to  be, 
that  all  separate  existence,  either  of  mind  or  matter,  was 
MAIA,  or  illusion,  and  that  nothing  really  was  but  BRIMH, 
whom,  indeed,  they  call  God,  but  by  whom  they  appear 
to  mean  only  the  infinite  energy  acting  upon  and  modify- 
ing itself.  This  gave  rise  to  a  little  Berkleian  conversa- 
tion, in  which  Mr.  Frissellf  warmly  contended  for  the 
existence  of  matter.  Colonel  Close  joined  me  in  repelling 
the  common  arguments  for  a  material  world.  He  struck 
me  very  much  as  possessing  great  talents  for  business, 
with  much  speculative  ingenuity,  and  as  joining  decision 
of  character  with  mildness  and  simplicity  of  manners. 
He  is  by  far  the  most  considerable  man  whom  I  have 
seen  in  the  East.  The  history  of  the  Madras  govern- 
ment for  the  last  twenty  years  has  been  such,  that  it  will 
be,  I  fear,  a  very  honourable  distinction  for  any  active 
politician  to  have  been  very  scrupulous  in  the  choice  of 
political  means.  Colonel  Close's  personal  integrity  is 
unimpeached.  I  know  little  of  his  political  conduct ;  but 
I  have  seen  enough  of  him  to  wish  that  it  may  have  been 
pure. 

"  On  Saturday  the  28th  a  deputation  from  the  Peshwa 
came  to  wait  upon  me  to  request,  on  the  part  of  his 

*  Lunch. 

t  A  young  subaltern  officer,  at  this  time  attached  to  the  Residency, 
who,  by  an  early  death,  disappointed  the  fond  hopes  excited  by  the 
great  promise  of  his  youth. 


1805.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR    JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  281 

highness,  that  I  would  visit  him  at  his  Palace.  We 
settled  that  the  visit  should  be  made  on  Sunday  after- 
noon. The  ministers,  among  other  things,  said  that 
their  master  wished  to  know  if  I  spoke  Hindostanee  or 
Persian.  They  were  of  course  told  that  I  did  not.  My 
friend,  Captain  Sydenham,  fearing  that  this  apparent 
want  of  accomplishment  might  lower  me  in  their  opinion, 
told  them  that  I  was  very  learned,  a  great  doctor  (for 
which  they  have  a  profound  reverence),  and  knew  the 
language  called  Yanani  (or  Greek),  of  which,  through 
the  Persian,  they  had  some  faint  notions.  Their  ideas 
were  not  indeed  very  correct,  for  they  said  '  that  was  a 
great  language  in  Persia.' 

"  After  tiffin,  Colonel  Close's  Persian  mounshee  waited 
upon  me  in  my  bungalow.  His  name  is  Mirza  Ali  Ukbar. 
He  is  a  native  of  Asterabad,  on  the  Caspian,  and  is  an 
emigrant  from  Persia,  on  account  of  his  attachment  to 
one  of  the  unsuccessful  competitors  for  the  Persian 
throne.  He  is  supposed  to  be  one  of  the  most  learned 
and  intelligent  men  of  the  East.  Mr.  Frissell  told  me 
that  he  could  discuss  ethical  questions  with  ability  and 
judgment :  I  therefore  began  to  try  him ;  and  I  asked 
him  about  the  cardinal  virtues,  which  they  have  from 
Aristotle.  Captain  Sydenham  and  Mr.  Frissell  were, 
however,  soon  shipwrecked  in  their  attempts  to  render 
metaphysical  terms,  and  we  were  obliged  to  call  in  the 
aid  of  Colonel  Close.  He  spoke  Persian  with  a  fluency 
which  astonished  me,  and  with  a  correctness  which  those 
admired,  who  knew  something  of  the  language.  It 
appears  that  they  have  in  their  schools  the  same  four 
cardinal  virtues  with  the  Greeks ;  and  when  I  asked  him 
which  was  the  first,  he  answered  that  all  were  necessary, 
but  that  justice  was  the  most  transcendently  excellent. 
I  thought  of  Cicero,  who  calls  justice  '  domina  et  regina 
virtutum/  the  queen  and  sovereign  lady  of  all  the  virtues. 

24* 


282  LIFE    OF    THE  [1805. 

I  proceeded  to  try  him  with  harder  questions.  I  asked 
what  was  the  meaning  of  the  word  'ought?  He  said 
it  was  easy  to  give  its  meaning  in  each  particular  case, 
but  very  difficult  to  say  what  it  meant  in  general.  I 
stated  the  case  of  a  man  entrusted  by  his  country  with  a 
fort,  which  he  could  defend  only  by  the  sacrifice  of  his 
own  life,  and  firmly  expecting  no  human  or  divine  punish- 
ment. I  said  that  all  men  would  admire  the  self-devotion 
of  such  a  person  under  such  circumstances ;  and  I  desired 
to  know  how  such  admiration  could  be  justified,  which 
could  only  be  by  showing  that  the  act  was  reasonable. 
He  said  that  he,  for  his  part,  would  even,  in  such  a  case, 
devote  himself  for  the  fame  which  would  follow.  I 
observed,  that  what  he  would  do  was  not  exactly  the 
question.  But,  after  some  further  talk,  I  took  from  him 
the  hope  of  fame,  by  supposing  a  case  in  which  the  exploit 
must  be  buried  in  obscurity.  He  said,  after  some  hesita- 
tion, that  even  then  he  would  not  desert  his  post :  and 
being  asked  why  ?  he  answered,  that  he  should  feel  him- 
self bound  in  justice  to  his  benefactor.  He  seemed  to 
think  it  impossible  to  go  further. 

"  We  sounded  him  on  the  doctrine  of  the  Sufi,  a  philo- 
sophical school  among  the  Persians,  of  which  he  is  a 
follower,  who  are  not  believers  in  the  popular  faith, 
though  outwardly  conformists.  Colonel  Close  had  sup- 
posed that  their  doctrine  agreed  pretty  nearly  with  the 
MAIA  of  the  Pundits ;  but  upon  close  inquiry  it  seemed 
to  differ  from  it  considerably.  All  souls,  according  to 
them,  are  sparks  which  issue  from  the  Godhead ;  and 
which,  after  a  longer  or  shorter  separate  existence,  are 
again  reabsorbed  into  it.  The  material  world,  however, 
has  in  their  system  not  only  a  real,  but  even  an  inde- 
pendent and  eternal  existence.  But  matter  is  the  Purda, 
or  veil,  which  conceals  God  from  created  minds.  All 
the  beauty  in  the  external  world  is  but  a  faint  image  or 


1805.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR    JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  283 

shadow  of  the  eternal  beauty  of  the  divine  mind.  Those 
who  see  through  this  disguise,  return  quickly  to  the  sun 
of  which  they  are  rays.  Those  who  are  grosser  and 
blinder,  are  slower  in  their  return,  and  may  even  recede 
farther  from  the  source  of  glory.  The  heaven  and  hell 
of  the  Koran,  as  temporary  states,  may  therefore  be 
reconciled  to  this  system.  But  the  philosophers  of  the 
Sufi  school  receive  only  such  parts  of  that  book  as  they 
find  agreeable  to  reason,  leaving  the  rest  to  the  vulgar, 
of  whom,  by-the-by,  our  philosopher  spoke  with  the  most 
supreme  contempt,  exclaiming,  '  How  the  devil  should 
the  wretched  vulgar  know  anything.' 

"  Yesterday  morning  we  went  to  breakfast  witk  Colonel 
Chalmers*  at  the  cantonments.  I  went  with  Mrs.  Waring 
on  one  elephant — Mr.  Waring  and  Captain  Sydenham  on 
another.  On  the  way  to  the  camp  we  visited  a  monument 
which  had  been  begun  to  be  erected  to  Mahajee  Scindia,^ 
but  which  was  suspended  by  the  civil  war,  and  is  probably 
now  relinquished  for  ever.  The  masonry  was  admirable, 
and  the  work  promised  to  be  very  handsome.  Near  the 
bottom  was  a  cornice  of  fleurs  de  lys,  J  which  none  of  us 
could  explain.  Pretty  near  this  monument  is  a  sorry  hut, 
where  the  ashes  of  this  powerful  chieftain  were  deposited 
for  a  time,  and  where  they  may  now  lie  long  undisturbed. 
It  is  a  small  pagoda  where,  in  the  usual  place  of  the  prin- 
cipal Deity,  is  a  picture  of  Scindia  by  Zoffany,  very  like 
that  in  the  government-house  at  Bombay.  Before  the 
picture,  lights  are  kept  constantly  burning,  and  offerings 
daily  made  by  an  old  servant  of  the  Maha  Rajah,  whose 
fidelity  rather  pleased  me,  even  though  I  was  told  that 
this  little  pagoda  was  endowed  with  lands,  which  yielded 

*  The  late  Sir  Thomas  Chalmers, 
t  Mhadowjee  Scindia,  the  founder  of  the  family. 
J  Scindia  had  employed  many  French  officers,  to  whose  vanity  or 
patriotism  such  ornaments  might  have  owed  their  existence. 


284  LIFE   OF   THE  [1805. 

a  small  income,  sufficient  for  the  worship  and  the  priest. 
This  portrait,  by  Zoflfany,  is  probably  the  only  work  of 
European  art  which  is  now  the  object  of  adoration ;  it 
has  obtained  one  honour  refused  to  the ( Transfiguration' 
itself. — We  breakfasted  heartily  and  merrily  at  the  Colo- 
nel's gay  bungalow,  and  after  breakfast  went  round  his 
menagerie  and  farm-yard,  which  he  showed  us  with  an 
agreeable  enough  vanity. 

"  About  half-past  four  we  went,  with  our  usual  train 
of  camels,  elephants,  &c.,  to  wait  upon  the  Peshwa.  We 
went  about  half  a  mile,  or  somewhat  less,  through  the 
city,  of  which  the  principal  streets  are  paved  with  flags, 
and  whioh  is  reckoned  one  of  the  best-built  native  towns 
in  India.  The  word  bhara,  which  is  the  term  for  the 
Peshwa's  house,  ought  not  to  be  translated  palace,  because 
it  is  applied  also  to  the  houses  of  the  other  Mahratta 
chiefs  at  Poonah.  From  its  size,  it  might  well  deserve 
the  name :  the  front  is  about  the  length  of  Somerset^ 
house  towards  the  Strand.  We  entered  through  a  gate 
into  a  large  square  formed  by  the  bhara.  The  walls  all 
around  were  painted  with  scenes  of  Hindu  mythology. 
At  one  of  the  corners  of  this  rather  handsome  square, 
we  had  a  staircase  to  climb,  which  formed  a  singular  con- 
trast to  the  exterior  of  the  building ;  it  was  steeper  than 
that  which  goes  to  the  terrace  at  Parell,  and  not  half  so 
broad.  At  the  top  of  this  staircase  was  the  entry  of  the 
hall  of  audience,  where  I  left  the  splendidly  embroidered 
slippers  with  which  Colonel  Close  had  furnished  me. 
The  hall  was  a  long  gallery,  about  the  length  perhaps  of 
the  verandah  at  Parell,  but  somewhat  wider,  supported  by 
two  rows  of  handsome  wooden  pillars,  either  of  oak  or  of 
some  timber  exactly  resembling  it.  (The  width  of  which 
I  speak  is  between  the  pillars.)  Behind  the  pillars,  on  each 
side,  was  a  recess  about  half  the  breadth  of  the  middle 
part.  This  apartment  was  carpeted,  and  near  the  end  at 


1805.]  RIGHT   HON.   SIR   JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  285 

which  we  entered  was  a  white  cloth  laid,  with  three  pil- 
lows: this  was  the  musnud,  or  throne.  On  advancing 
near  this  spot,  we  observed  the  Peshwa  coming  forward 
to  meet  us.  He  is  much  the  handsomest  Hindu  I  have 
seen,  and  indeed  he  is  a  very  handsome  man,  about  thirty- 
four  years  of  age,  with  a  perfectly  gentlemanlike  air  and 
manner,  simply  and  neatly  dressed  in  white  muslin.  Like 
the  race  of  Concan  Bramins  in  general,  he  is  fair ;  and  no 
lady's  hands,  fresh  from  the  toilet  and  the  bath,  could  be 
more  nicely  clean  than  his  uncovered  feet.  His  appear- 
ance had  more  elegance  than  dignity ;  it  was  not  what 
might  have  been  expected  from  a  Mahratta  Chief,  and 
it  could  not  be  called  effeminate.  His  whole  deport- 
ment had  that  easy,  unexerting  character,  which  I  never 
saw  but  in  those  who  had  a  long  familiarity  with  superior 
station,  and  very  seldom  in  any  who  had  not  hereditary 
claims  on  it.  I  have  now  been  presented  to  three  Chiefs 
of  Nations,*  and,  in  manner  and  appearance,  I  must 
prefer  the  Mahratta.  He  advanced  gracefully  to  embrace 
me,  and,  after  exchanging  salams,  he  sat  down  on  the 
musnud,  and  I,  with  Colonel  Close  and  the  other  gentle- 
men on  my  left,  immediately  opposite  to  him.  His  dewan 
was  on  my  right,  towards  the  Peshwa.  The  etiquette  of 
this  court  is,  that  nothing  above  a  whisper  shall  pass  in 
public  Durbar. -\  The  Peshwa  whispered  an  inquiry 
after  my  health  to  the  Dewan,  which  he  whispered  to 
Colonel  Close,  and  which  the  Colonel  whispered  to  me. 
The  common  compliment  was  whispered  back  by  the 
same  route.  After  some  other  unmeaning  talk,  like  that 
which  passed  before  with  the  Minister,  his  Highness  was 
pleased  to  express  a  desire  to  have  some  private  conversa- 
tion with  me.  We  retired,  with  three  of  his  ministers 

*  George  the  Third,  Napoleon,  and  Bajee  Rao. 
t  Levee. 


286  LIFE    OF   THE  [1805. 

and  Colonel  Close,  to  a  closet,  unfurnished,  and  with  bare 
walls,  having  a  white  cloth  on  the  floor,  and  little  pillows, 
as  a  musnud  for  the  Peshwa. 

"  He  enlarged  on  the  happiness  which  he  derived  from 
his  connexion  with  the  English.  He  said  his  father* 
had  desired  the  same  connexion,  but,  as  to  him,  fate  had 
its  course ;  that  he  himself  had  been  long  thwarted  by 
the  turbulence  of  his  Chiefs,  but  that,  since  the  alliance 
with  the  English,  he  enjoyed  peace  and  safety.  I  an- 
swered him  in  the  usual  style,  assuring  him  that  I  had 
lately  come  from  England ;  that  the  disposition  of  the 
British  nation  was  friendly  towards  him ;  and  that  though 
great  states,  as  his  Highness  well  knew  changed  their 
governors  and  servants  in  distant  provinces,  yet  our 
friendly  disposition  towards  him  would  not  change,  but 
that  his  Majesty  would  employ  his  force  in  maintaining 
the  alliance  inviolable,  in  asserting  his  Highness's  just 
rights,  and  in  protecting  his  personal  security  and  com- 
fort. His  countenance  brightened  up  as  my  assurances 
went  on,  and  his  smiles  at  last  seemed  to  be  those  of 
delight.  Colonel  Close  told  me  that  these  were  the 
Peshwa's  genuine  feelings,  and  that  he  had  before  ob- 
served the  same  joy  produced  by  every  similar  assurance 
from  every  new  Englishman  of  any  distinction.  The 
feelings  indeed  were,  I  thought,  obviously  unaffected ; 
they  were  certainly  natural,  and,  perhaps  they  were  rea- 
sonable. He  had  passed  his  youth  in  prison,  where  his 
father  died.  Since  he  ascended  the  musnud,  he  had  been 
the  prize  fought  for  by  rival  chiefs;  sometimes  an  instru- 
ment in  the  hands  of  Scindia,  sometimes  in  those  of 
Holkar;  he  was  not  only  never  independent,  but  he 
never  enjoyed  a  quiet  or  specious  dependence.  His 

*  Ragonath  Rao,  better  known  by  the  name  of  Ragoba,  whom  the 
Bombay  Government  attempted  to  place  on  the  musnud  at  Poonah. 


1805.]  BIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  287 

country  was  wasted ;  his  palace  often  disturbed  by  the 
noise  of  civil  war :  his  person  degraded  and  endangered. 
All  this  he  has  exchanged  for  a  condition,  not  indeed  of 
political  independence,  but  of  tranquillity  for  himself  and 
for  his  subjects,  of  personal  enjoyment  and  comfort,  and 
of  external  dignity.  I  admit  that  an  ambitious  man  would 
prefer  his  former  situation,  because  it  had  more  chances 
of  regaining  substantial  power.  The  choice  of  a  philoso- 
pher might  perhaps  vary,  according  to  the  high  or  low 
tone  of  his  morality.  But  the  Peshwa  is  neither  a  hero, 
nor  a  sage ;  he  is  a  superstitious  voluptuary,  devoted  only 
to  women  and  to  the  Gods ;  he  therefore  cherishes  every 
connexion,  which  protects  him  in  his  devotions  and  his 
pleasures. 

"  To  return.  The  Peshwa  introduced  the  subject  of 
'  Ruttonbhoy  and  Doolub,'  *  but  with  more  propriety  and 
even  delicacy,  than  I  could  have  suspected.  He  said  two 
partners  in  a  great  banking-house  in  his  dominions  were 
at  law  in  my  Court,  and  that  he  wished,  both  for  the  sake 
of  the  individuals,  and  for  that  of  his  territories,  that 
'matters  could  be  so  arranged,  that  the  business  might 
again  be  carried  on.  I  told  him  that  I  had  often  ineffectu- 
ally recommended  an  amicable  adjustment  of  differences; 
that  I  should,  in  deference  to  his  wishes,  repeat  the 
recommendation,  and  that,  if  it  failed,  I  should  endea- 
vour to  bring  the  question  to  a  judicial  termination  as 
soon  as  justice  would  allow.  He  seemed  satisfied,  and 
rather  surprised  at  this  information.  I  told  him  that 
as  long  as  I  had  reason  to  believe  one  of  the  parties 
oppressed,  I  must  have  appeared  hostile  to  the  other  j 
but  that  since  both  were  in  a  state  of  equal  submission, 
I  had  held  the  balance  even,  as  I  ought.  He  said  that 

*  This  refers  to  a  great  cause  then  depending  in  the  Recorder's  Court 
at  Bombay. 


288  LIFE   OF   THE  [1806. 

he  was,  in  a  day  or  two,  to  set  out  for  some  districts  on 
the  Godavery,  with  a  view  to  reduce  those  countries  to 
order,  and  perform  some  ceremonies  to  the  memory  of 
his  father.  I  told  him  that  the  union  of  piety  and  public 
duty  well  became  a  great  prince.  Very  little  passed 
besides. 

"We  returned  into  the  hall  of  audience,  when  the 
Dewan  put  a  diamond  '  surpeach '  on  my  hat,  and  a 
diamond  necklace  round  my  neck,  and  laid  before  me 
several  pieces  of  gold  and  silver  cloth  and  fine  muslins. 
The  cloth  was  delivered  to  Cowasjee,*  who  stood  behind 
at  the  levee.  The  jewels  remained  where  they  were 
placed.-]-  The  usual  ceremonies  were  then  performed,  of 
betel,  ottar,  and  rose-water,  and  we  took  our  leave.  We 
returned  to  the  Residency  on  an  elephant.  I  was  not  a 
little  fatigued ;  and  I  was  sorry,  about  half-past  ten,  to 
part  with  Sydenham,  who  threw  himself  into  his  palan- 
keen for  Hyderabad.  He  had  stripped,  and  put  on  a 
flannel  gown  and  drawers,  nightcap,  and  slippers.  The 
Bengal  palankeen  was  so  commodious  and  elegant,  that 
we  scarcely  pitied  him,  though  he  had  six  days  and 
nights  to  travel  in  it.  The  bearers  were  posted  for  him 
at  every  ten,  or  twelve  miles,  like  our  post-horses.  This 
is  what  they  call  travelling  by  dawlc.  Dawk  means 
post." 

Sir  James  returned  early  in  January  following  (1806) 
to  Bombay. 

"  My  works,"  we  find  him  soon  after  confessing  to  Mr. 
Sharp,  "  are,  alas !  still  projects.  What  shall  I  say  for 
myself  ?  My  petty  avocations,  too  minute  for  description, 

*  His  servant. 

t  All  presents  made  on  such  occasions  are  given  up  to  the  officers  of 
the  Residency,  and  sold  on  account  of  the  East  India  Company. 


1806.]  RIGHT  HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  289 

and  too  fugitive  for  recollection,  are  yet  effectual  interrup- 
tions of  meditation.  They  are,  I  admit,  partly  the  pretext. 
All  I  have  to  say  is,  that  they  are  also  partly  the  cause  of 
my  inactivity.  I  cannot  say  with  Gray,  that  my  time  is 
spent  in  that  kind  of  learned  leisure,  which  has  self-im- 
provement and  self-gratification  for  its  object.  Learned 
he  might  justly  call  his  leisure. 

"  To  that  epithet  I  have  no  pretensions ;  but  I  must 
add,  that  frequent  compunction  disturbs  my  gratification ; 
and  the  same  indolence,  or  the  same  business  which  pre- 
vents me  from  working  for  others,  hinders  me  from 
improving  myself.  Poor  T.  Wedgwood  soon  dropped  on 
the  ground  after  you  described  him  as  fading  away.*  I  can 
no  longer  gratify  him,  but  I  am  bound  to  do  what  I  can 
'  to  honour  his  memory ;  and,  notwithstanding  all  my  past 
offences,  I  will.  I  wrote  poor  Currief  a  letter,  which  he 
will  never  receive.  These  deaths  around  me,  while  I 

*  [The  late  Mr.  Thomas  Wedgwood,  one  of  the  most  ingenious, 
profound,  and  original  thinkers  of  his  age  ;  by  whose  long  sufferings,  and 
untimely  death,  the  science  of  mind  was  deprived  of  the  services  of  one 
of  the  very  few  who  were  qualified  to  enlarge  its  boundaries.  The  fruits 
of  his  meditations  are  unhappily  lost  with  himself;  since  it  would  be  vain 
for  any  other  man  to  attempt  to  follow  his  footsteps  along  that  secluded 
path,  where  with  characteristic,  and  probably  unequalled  delicacy  of 
observation,  he  watched  the  most  evanescent  and  transient  circumstance 
in  the  subtlest  processes  of  thought.  But  the  remembrance  of  his  affec- 
tion and  generosity,  the  higher  part  of  his  nature,  and  the  paramount 
objects  of  his  life,  will  always  be  fresh  in  the  hearts  of  those,  from  whom 
his  modesty  could  not  hide  their  unwearied  activity.  A  just  and  singu- 
larly beautiful  account  of  the  character  of  this  admirable  person  is  to  be 
found  in  a  late  edition  of  the  "  Biographia  Literaria"  of  Mr.  Coleridge; 
but  the  eloquent  writer  has  (for  what  reason  we  know  not)  omitted  the 
name  of  Mr.  Wedgwood.]  Mr.  Wedgwood  died  on  the  eve  of  a 
voyage  to  the  West  Indies,  from  which  he  had  expected  benefit  to  his 
long-disordered  state  of  health,  July  10,  1804. 

t  The  late  James  Currie,  M.  D.,  of  Liverpool. 

VOL.  I.  25 


290  LIFE   OF   THE  [1806. 

have  nothing  but  barren  wishes  and  unexecuted  projects, 
or  rather  unaccomplished  duties,  make  me  melancholy. 

"P.  S. — I  find  that  my  Bibliomanie  has  given  me 
another  page  for  a  postscript;  and,  on  reperusing  my 
letter,  I  observe  and  acknowledge  the  absurdity  of  giving 
lasting  anxiety  to  a  distant  friend,  for  the  sake  of  pouring 
forth  half  an  hour's  low  spirits.  One  ought  to  be  more 
careful  when  the  evil  cannot  be  corrected  by  next  post. 
My  cheerful  temper,  and  my  domestic  enjoyments,  are 
much  more  than  sufficient  to  preserve  me  from  being 
depressed  by  any  unfavourable  circumstances  during  the 
far  greater  part  of  my  life.  But  I  sometimes  for  a 
moment  forget  the  very  great  compensations  which,  upon 
the  whole,  render  me  a  happy  man.  I  am  cheerfully 
disposed,  but  easily  cast  down  for  a  short  time.  I  have 
not  that  robust  and  unconquerable  gaiety  which  would 
make  our  friend  Bobus  romp  in  Robespierre's  Concier- 
gerie.  I  have  heard  frequently  from  him.  He  is  very 
prosperous.  Not  only  his  letters,  but  the  very  sound  of 
his  name  make  me  merry. 

"  I  am  very  desirous  to  return  to  you  in  1809,  but  I 
cannot  in  prudence,  or  even  in  conscience,  do  it.  I 
should  like,  of  all  things,  to  lecture  on  moral  philosophy 
in  London,  for  eight  or  ten  years." 

Again  (May  10th)  he  reverts  to  his  wish  for  a  pro- 
fessorship. "Your  account  of  the  London  Institution* 
has  delighted  and  tantalised  me.  I  wish  I  were  a  pro- 
fessor !  but  the  printed  paper  is  too  general  to  admit  of 
any  discussion.  You  do  not  say  how  many,  and  who  are 
to  be  professors.  It  may  surely  be  a  little  more  solid 
than  the  fashionable  nerves  of  Albemarle  Street  f  could 


*  Then  lately  founded  for  the  promotion  of  science  and  literature, 
t  The  situation  of  the  Royal  Institution. 


1806.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  291 

endure,  without  ceasing  to  be  popular.  I  shall  send  by 
the  first  ship  some  oriental  MSS.*  to  adorn,  if  not  to 
furnish  your  library.  They  will  be  of  no  great  use  ;  but 
they  will  give  some  lustre  to  a  library." 


TO   RICHARD    SHARP,   ESQ. 

"Bombay,  July  16^,  1806. 

"My  DEAR  SHARP, — I  heartily  thank  you  for  your 
invoice  of  books  which  were  not  sent  by  the  ships,  and 
for  your  own  letter,  which  is  a  better  part  of  a  book 
than  any  I  shall  find  in  them  when  they  are  sent. 

"I  have  only  room  for  the  mere  annals  of  my  late 
readings.  I  must  reserve  the  history  till  another  oppor- 
tunity. I  read  through  the  whole  of  Gibbon,  with  such 
omissions  and  explanations  as  children  require.  After- 
wards, instead  of  a  treatise  on  Chivalry  and  Crusades,  I 
exhibited  a  dignified  and  a  comic  picture  of  them  in 
Fairfax's  Tasso,  and  Don  Quixote.  Since  that  time  Lo- 
renzo, to  give  some  idea  of  reviving  literature  and  Italian 
art ;  Robertson's  Charles  V.  and  America,  with  the  very 
delightful  interludes  of  Walter  Scott  and  Miss  Baillie. 
Our  present  book  is  Cumberland,-)-  in  which  every  thing 
is  agreeable,  but  the  account  of  the  author's  present  situa- 
tion, which  is  interesting,  but  painfully  so.  After  Burke's 
European  settlements,  and  Bernal  Diaz's  Mexico,  we  shall 
finish  the  Cinque  Cento  in  Italy  by  Leo  X. ;  and  then  we 
plunge  into  a  regular  course  of  the  political  history  of 
England,  in  which  Hume  is  to  be  the  text,  and  which,  I 
think,  may  last  a  couple  of  years.  They  are  without  a 
governess,  but  not  without  instruction. 

*  These  were  captured  in  a  ship  which  was  carried  by  the  enemy 
into  the  Isle  of  France. 

f  Memoirs  of  Richard  Cumberland,  by  himself. 


292  LIFE    OF    THE  [1806. 

"I  have  yet  seen  Payne  Knight*  only  in  the  praises 
of  the  Edinburgh  Review  f  (who  is  the  reviewer?);  and, 

in  the  very  entertaining  abuse  of ,  who  has  written 

me  a  most  excellent  letter,  abusing  every  body  but  you, 
which  is  certainly  the  most  amusing  general  tone  he  could 
have  taken,  as  well  as  the  most  reasonable  exception. 
Through  both  mediums  I  can  see  the  great  occasional 
merit  of  the  book;  yet  why  does  he,  like  one  of  the 
ignorant  vulgar,  deny  permanent  and  general  principles  in 
taste  ?  The  existence  of  immutable,  as  well  as  of  fashion- 
able taste,  is  so  evident,  that  this  is  one  of  those  shabby 
paradoxes,  by  the  buzz  of  which  one  expects  to  be  some- 
times annoyed  in  society,  but  which  one  does  not  look  for 
in  the  work  of  a  man  of  Mr.  K.'s  size.  I  rejoice  that 
metaphysical  books,  even  of  a  middling  kind,  spring  up 
again.  I  thought  I  saw  symptoms  of  metaphysics  for  two 
or  three  years  past.  I  am  pretty  confident  that  the  next 
ten  years  will  be  much  more  metaphysical  than  the  last. 

"I  have  written,  and  shall  send  to  you  to  be  printed,  J 
a  little  Essay '  De  claris  (Angliae)  Oratoribus,'  which  was 
suggested  by  the  news  of  the  death  of  Mr.  Pitt.  Some 
part  of  it  I  think  good.  Pitt's  eloquence  I  hope  you  will 
think  exactly  described.  It  has  cost  me  some  pains ;  but, 
though  I  can  characterise  his  eloquence,  I  do  not  worship 
his  memory.  An  idolatry  of  that  sort  is  set  up  here,  and 
all  nonconformity  is  persecuted.  The  people  here  had 
the  folly  to  ask  me  to  preside  at  a  public  meeting  for 
a  statue  to  Mr.  P.,  and  to  be  angry  that  I  did  not  go. 
They  called  me  a  partisan  of  Buonaparte,  because  I  pretty 
early  foresaw  that  the  result  of  the  wretched  continental 
measures  would  be  universal  monarchy,  &c. 

"  I  wish  I  were  principal  of  your  academical  institution, 

*  Inquiry  into  the  Principles  of  Taste.  |  Vol.  vii.  p.  295. 

J  The  publication  was  never  carried  into  effect. 


1806.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR    JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  293 

and  professor  of  ethics.     Such  a  place  is  iny  natural  des- 
tination.    God  bless  you.  «  J.  M." 

As  a  confession  recorded  in  his  journal  betrays,  desul- 
tory reading  occupied  a  large  portion  of  the  year  upon 
which  we  are  now  employed, — a  consequence,  perhaps,  in 
part  of  that  state  of  mind  bordering  so  closely  upon  con- 
firmed disappointment  at  the  consequences  of  the  step  he 
took  in  leaving  England,  signs  of  which  have  been  seen 
now  and  then  to  escape  him.  It  was  but  natural,  that 
amidst  his  cordial  satisfaction  at  the  .accession  of  a  liberal 
government  to  power,  consequent  on  Mr.  Pitt's  death, 
some  consciousness  should  intrude  itself  that,  but  for  that 
same  step,  he  might  at  that  time  have  been  playing  some 
more  active  part  on  the  stage  of  public  life,  than  that  of 
a  distant,  though  approving  spectator.  Though  by  his 
circumstances,  cut  off  from  taking  any  personal  share  in 
public  affairs,  he  could  not  but  follow  all  the  measures 
of  his  friends,  and  all  the  events  of  the  times,  as  they 
occurred,  with  the  most  intense  interest.  His  corres- 
pondence, accordingly,  increased  in  activity.  Within  the 
limit  of  the  same  month  we  find  him  connected  with  the 
European  world, — by  three  very  different  links  of  com- 
munication, in  letters  to  MM.  Degerando  and  Gentz,  and 
Mr.  Windham. 

From  the  first  of  these  gentlemen  who  had  now  been 
advanced  to  the  post  of  Secretary-general  of  the  ministry 
of  the  interior  in  the  French  government,  he  had  received 
a  letter  containing,  together  with  literary  information, 
tidings  of  their  mutual  friends  at  Paris ;  and,  amongst 
other  matter,  tendering  a  tribute  of  gratitude  for  some 
services,  which  it  was  in  Sir  James's  power  to  render  to 
French  prisoners  at  Bombay.  Amidst  the  din  of  the 
Belhmi  iitiernednum  which  then  waged  between  the  two 
nations,  it  is  refreshing  to  pause  upon  such  passages  in 

25* 


294  LIFE    OF    THE  [1806. 

the  friendly  intercourse  of  individuals.  "  C'est  une  chose 
veritablement  singuliere,"  said  the  Abbe  Morellet,  allu- 
ding to  Sir  James's  correspondence  with  his  friends  at 
Paris,  "  comment  d'une  extremitie  de  la  terre  a  1'autre, 
on  peut  se  trouver  si  bien  d'accord ;  on  dirait  qu'un  fil 
electrique,  traversant  le  mond,  communique  nos  impres- 
sions reciproques." 

Sir  James's  answer  contains  an  expression  of  the  opinion, 
which  had  early  presented  itself  to  his  mind,  of  the  general 
inferiority  of  the  Hindu  character.  "  L'ide'e  que  j'ai  forme'e 
des  Indous  est  peut-etre  en  partie  due  a  la  nature  de  mes 
fonctions,  qui,  comme  vous  dites,  ne  me  montrent  pas  le 
cote  le  plus  aimable  de  la  nature  humaine.  Je  dois 
cependant  dire,  que  presque  tous  les  observateurs  les  plus 
exacts,  me  semblent  d'accord  avec  moi ;  et  quoique  ma 
position  peut  me  rendre  un  peu  plus  partiel  que  quelques 
autres,  elle  me  donne  aussi  les  moyens  d'observer  beau- 
coup  plus  exactement  ce  que  je  crois  observer,  que  la 
plupart  des  observateurs.  Ce  resultat  est  sans  doute  en 
soimeme  affligeant.*  On  ne  peut  etre  qu'  afflige  en  voy- 

*  [They,  the  Eajpoots,  are  the  representatives  of  Hinduism.  In  them 
are  seen  all  the  qualities  of  the  Hindu  race,  unmitigated  by  foreign  mix- 
ture, exerted  with  their  original  energy,  and  displayed  in  the  strongest 
light.  They  exhibit  the  genuine  form  of  an  Hindu  community,  formed 
of  the  most  discordant  materials,  and  combining  the  most  extraordinary 
contrasts  of  moral  nature ;  unconquerable  adherence  to  native  opinions 
and  usages,  with  servile  submission  to  any  foreign  yoke ;  an  unbelieving 
priesthood,  ready  to  suffer  martyrdom  for  the  most  petty  observance  of 
their  professed  faith ;  a  superstition  which  inspires  the  resolution  to 
inflict,  or  to  suffer  the  most  atrocious  barbarities,  without  cultivating 
any  natural  sentiment,  or  enforcing  any  social  duty ;  all  the  stages  in 
the  progress  of  society  brought  together  in  one  nation,  from  some  abject 
castes,  more  brutal  than  the  savages  of  New  Zealand,  to  the  polish  of 
manners  and  refinement  of  character  conspicuous  in  the  upper  ranks ; 
attachment  to  kindred  and  to  home,  with  no  friendship  and  no  love  of 
country ;  good  temper  and  gentle  disposition ;  little  active  cruelty, 
except  when  stimulated  by  superstition ;  but  little  sensibility,  little  com- 


1806.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  295 

ant  une  si  grande  partie  du  genre  humain  si  corrumpue ; 
mais  quand  on  voit  clairement  les  causes  auxquelles  cette 
corruption  est  due,  on  est  un  peu  console.  On  cesse 
d'e*prouver  des  sentimens  hostiles  contre  une  grande  nation. 
On  commence  a  detester  la  tyrannic  et  1'imposture  qui 
ont  abruties  la  posterite  des  fondateurs  de  la  civilisation. 
C'est  alors  qu'  on  croit  entrevoir  dans  1'histoire  de  1'Asie, 
des  Ie9ons  d'une  utilite  infinie  pour  les  nations  de  1'Europe. 
C'est  sous  ce  point  de  vue  que  1'histoire  de  1'Inde  m'inter- 
esse,  et  c'est  en  laissant  a  part  les  antiquites  et  la  mytho- 
logie,  que  j'ai  1'idee  de  1'ecrire  pour  les  penseurs,  et  surtout 
pour  le  publique. 

"  L'ancienne  philosophic  des  Indous  est  encore  trop  peu 
conn ue.  Vous  trouverez  de  bonnes  observations  sur  cette 
matiere  dans  quelques  unes  des  Lettres  Edifiantes,  et  sur- 
tout dans  1'inestimable  petit  ouvrage  de  Bernier,  ce  voy- 
ageur  philosophe,  que  a  observe  Delhi  et  Agra  avec  un 
esprit  exerce  a  1'ecole  du  sage  Gassendi." 

Very  different  from  M.  Degerando's  were  now,  by  the 
course  of  late  events,  the  circumstances  of  the  next  of 
these  correspondents — M.  Gentz,  whose  letters  from  the 
very  seat  of  the  war  in  Germany  stamped  a  vivid  indi- 
viduality on  all  its  terrible  details,  which  may  in  part 
account  for  that  excess  of  anxiety  which  might  be  dis- 
cerned in  all  Sir  James's  political  anticipations  at  this 
period,  and  which  might  almost  appear  excessive  in  one 
who  filled  no  political  station. 

passion,  scarcely  any  disposition  to  relieve  suffering,  or  relieve  wrong 
done  to  themselves  or  others.  Timidity,  with  its  natural  attendants, 
falsehood  and  meanness,  in  the  ordinary  relations  of  human  life,  joined 
with  a  capability  of  becoming  excited  to  courage  in  the  field,  to  military 
enthusiasm,  to  heroic  self-devotion.  Abstemiousness,  in  some  respects 
more  rigorous  than  that  of  a  western  hermit,  in  a  life  of  intoxication. 
Austerities  and  self-tortures  almost  incredible,  practised  by  those  who 
otherwise  wallow  in  gross  sensuality ;  childish  levity,  barefaced  falsehood, 
no  faith,  no  constancy,  no  shame,  no  belief  in  the  existence  of  justice.} 


296  LIFE    OF   THE  [1806. 

"  You  amuse  yourself/'  he  writes  to  his  friend  at  Moore 
Hall,  "as  an  epicurean  spectator  of  human  affairs,  in  spe- 
culating on  the  motives  of  Buonaparte  with  the  same 
calmness  as  you  would  examine  the  wing  of  a  butterfly,  if 
you  were  an  entomologist,  which  I  suppose  you  never  will 
be.  But  though  I  am  more  distant  from  the  great  scene  of 
Europe,  I  cannot  detach  myself  from  it  so  completely ; 
partly,  perhaps,  because  in  an  European  colony  I  am 
politically  in  Europe,  though  geographically  out  of  it ; 
and  in  a  little  spot  which  seems  more  frail  and  vulnerable 
than  great  countries,  and  where  the  fluctuations  of  secu- 
rity and  apprehension  are  more  exquisitely  felt,  and  more 
nicely  observed.  I  cannot  now  examine,  with  the  same 
indifference,  the  victory  of  the  French  at  Ulm,  with  that 
which  I  yesterday  evening  read  that  of  Charles  Martel 
over  the  Saracens.  Nothing  now  seems  to  stand  between 
the  Corsican  dynasty  and  the  empire  of  all  Europe,  to 
the  south  of  Russia,  by  which  I  mean  only  an  irresistible 
influence  in  every  country,  though  it  may  be  exercised 
through  the  channel  of  a  pretended  national  government. 
This  is,  I  think,  in  substance,  universal  monarchy.  The 
precise  period  for  which  England  may  survive  such  a 
state  of  things  on  the  Continent,  it  is  absolutely  impos- 
sible to  conjecture.  The  victory  of  Nelson,*  and  still 
more,  the  glorious  example  of  his  death,  must  fortify  our 
islands;  but  if  they  be  alone  in  the  world,  they  cannot 
ultimately  stand.  I  feel  all  these  things  the  more  sen- 
sibly, because,  in  the  danger  of  the  British  islands,  I  see 
the  possible  destruction  of  that  chosen  and  cherished 
asylum,  towards  which  all  my  private  fancies  and  hopes 
are  constantly  directed." 

When  informed  of  the  subsequent  occupation  of  Vienna 

*  The  battle  of  Trafalgar  was  fought  on  the  21st  of  October,  the 
day  after  the  evacuation  of  Ulna. 


1806.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  297 

by  the  French,  an  event  which  he  considered  as  ominous 
of  the  subjugation  of  the  Continent,  and  likely  to  realise 
the  above  gloomy  forebodings  in  relation  to  his  own 
country,  he  was  quite  unable  to  repress  his  feelings  — 
tears  filled  his  eyes. 

A  few  extracts  from  some  of  M.  Gentz's  letters  will  be 
interesting,  (beyond  their  literary  and  personal  details,) 
in  throwing  some  light  on  the  deplorable  ignorance  in 
which  the  Court  of  Vienna  then  was,  as  to  the  masterly 
arrangements  of  its  mighty  opponent,  and  on  the  process, 
by  which  its  antiquated  and  formal  systems  of  war  and 
policy  were  paralysed  by  the  fiery  spirit  and  revolutionary 
vigour  of  Buonaparte  and  his  instruments. 

"Vienne,  le  19  Aout,  1805. 

"  Je  pense  en  fremissant,  qu'il  y  a  une  eternite  depuis 
que  je  vous  ai  ecrit  la  derniere  ibis,  mon  excellent  ami ; 
mais  vraiment  les  choses  qui  se  passent  en  Europe,  sont 
telles  qu'il  est  pardonnable  de  negliger  un  peu  les  amis 
qui  vivent  dans  1'Inde ;  et  j'ai  ete  depuis  plusieurs  mois 
tellement  occupe*,  d'un  cote,  et  tellement  decourage  de 
1'autre,  que  je  n'avais  presque  pas  le  coeur  d'entreprendre 
la  moindre  chose,  qui  ne  se  trouvat  pas  directement  dans 
mon  chemin." 

After  giving  an  account  of  the  mission  of  M.  de 
Novosilzoff  to  Buonaparte,  on  the  part  of  Russia  and 
England,  and  of  his  recal  on  the  news  of  the  annexation 
of  Genoa  to  France,  he  mentions  the  immense  prepara- 
tions of  Austria,  on  the  side  of  the  Tyrol,  on  the  frontiers 
of  Italy,  and  in  Upper  Austria — preparations  such  as  had 
not  been  witnessed  in  any  war  for  fifty  years  before — he 
speculates  on  the  probabilities  of  war  and  peace,  and 
especially  whether  the  Imperialists  were  likely  to  attack 
the  French,  or  the  French  to  open  the  war  by  attacking 
the  Imperialists.  His  reasoning  on  the  second  suppo- 


298  LIFE   OF   THE  [1806. 

sition  is  very  curious.  It  is  to  be  remembered  that  his 
letter  is  dated  only  eight  days  before  the  French  army 
broke  up  from  the  heights  of  Boulogne,  to  pour  into  the 
heart  of  Germany. 

"  La  seconde  hypothese  est  presqu'  ^galement  invrai- 
semblable,  Buonaparte  ne  se  soucie  pas  d'une  nouvelle 
guerre ;  il  a  bien  du  decouvrir,  que  meme  sous  le  rapport 
de  1'aggrandissement,  la  paix  lui  est  plus  favorable.  Jugez 
ce  qu'il  a  fait  dans  le  cours  de  1'annee  presente.  Dix 
batailles  gagnees  n'auraient  pas  mene  plus  loin  autrefois. 
II  a  fonde  un  royauine  en  Italie ;  il  a  conquis  1'etat  de 
Genes,  et  celui  de  Lucque  ;  il  a  etabli  toute  sa  famille, 
les  Bacciochi,  les  Borghese,  &c.  dans  des  fiefs  consider- 
ables, Beauharnois  comme  Viceroi  d'ltalie  ;  il  a  fait 
tout  cela  sans  coup  ferir,  sans  que  la  moindre  opposition, 
la  moindre  protestation  ait  trouble  son  repos.  Que  peui> 
il  desirer  davantage  ?  Sa  campagne  est  faite  pour  cette 
annee.  L'annee  prochaine  aura  sa  tache  aussi.  II  est 
vraiment  remarquable,  avec  quelle  indifference  il  a  vu, 
jusqu'a  present,  nos  immenses  preparatifs.  H  est  vrai 
que  sur  ce  phenomene-ci  les  opinions  sont  partagees.  II 
y  en  a  qui  croient  que  le  succes,  et  les  grandeurs,  et  la 
pompe,  et  la  magnificence  qui  1'entourent,  commencent  a 
amollir  son  ame,  et  qu'elle  a  deja  perdu  de  son  ressort. 
D'autres  sont  persuades  que  son  inactivity  est  uniquement 
le  resultat  du  calcul,  et  qu'il  est  convaincu  que,  quoi  que 
nous  fassions,  pourvu  qu'il  ne  nous  attaque  pas,  nous  ne 
1'attaquerons  jamais." 

Such,  unfortunately,  were  the  speculations  at  the 
court,  and  in  the  public  offices  of  Vienna,  when  their 
watchful  and  provident  enemy  was  marshalling  his 
armies,  that  were  to  descend  on  them  from  every 
quarter  at  once,  with  the  speed  and  the  fury  of  a 
hurricane.  After  mentioning  the  escape  of  the  Roche- 
fort  squadron  —  its  operations  —  Nelson's  pursuit,  and 


1806.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  299 

Calder's  engagement,  and  the  state  of  public  opinion  on 
the  continent,  he  proceeds :  — 

"Voila  done  mon  budget  de  nouvelles  politiques. 
Quant  a  la  litterature,  je  ne  puis  pas  dire  que,  depuis 
votre  depart  de  1'Europe,  il  ait  paru,  soit  en  Angleterre, 
soit  en  France,  soit  en  Allemagne,  un  seul  ouvrage  digne 
de  faire  epoque  dans  son  genre.  Chez  nous  la  philosophic 
transcendentale  baisse  de  jour  en  jour,  et  pour  suivre 
avec  exactitude  toutes  les  differentes  phases  de  cette 
philosophic,  et  fixer  le  point  ou  elle  est  aujourd'hui,  je 
vous  recommande  particulierement  le  dernier  ouvrage 
de  Reinhold,  qui,  quoiqu'un  peu  obscur  lui-meme  dans 
quelques  lines  de  ses  parties,  jette  cependant  une  grande 
clarte  sur  1'ensemble  de  la  chose.  Je  ne  sais  pas  si  vous 
avez  jamais  aborde  1'histoire  de  la  Suisse  par  Johannes 
Miiller,  en  Allemand :  il  vient  de  nous  donner  le  quatri- 
eme  volume  de  cet  ouvrage  imnaortel,  precede  d'une 
adresse  aux  Suisses,  que  je  ferai  copier  pour  vous,  et 
que  je  vous  enverrai  par  le  premier  courrier  qui  suivra 
celui-ci.  C'est  selon  moi  un  des  premiers  morgeaux  qui 
ait  paru  en  Europe  depuis  les  anciens.  La  litterature 
Franchise  est  absolument  en  stagnation.  Les  Memoires 
de  Marmontel,  tant  de  sa  propre  vie  que  de  la  Regence 
du  Due  d'Orleans,  ouvrages  correctement  ecrits,  et  assez 
curieux,  sont  ce  qu'il  y  a  de  mieux  depuis  un  an.  On  dit 
une  infinite  de  bien  d'un  ouvrage  de  St.  Croix,  que  je 
recevrai  incessament,  l  Examen  Critique  des  Anciens 
Historiens  d'Alexandre  le  Grand.'  On  assure  que  c'est 
un  chef-d'oeuvre  de  critique  historique,  qui  repand  beau- 
coup  de  lumiere  sur  1'histoire  et  la  geographic  ancienne. 

"  Quant  a  votre  tres  humble  serviteur,  il  a  employe 
le  terns  que  lui  ont  laisse  les  memoires  sans  nombre  qu'il 
a  rediges  sur  les  affaires  du  moment  a  un  ouvrage  de 
quelqu'  etendue,  sur  1'origine  de  la  guerre  entre  1' Angle- 
terre et  1'Espagne.  Cet  ouvrage  s'imprime  maintenant 


300  LIFE   OF   THE  [1806. 

a  Berlin.  II  y  aura  une  preface  de  cinq  feuilles  d'im- 
pression,  dans  laquelle  on  a  developpe  tout  ce  que  le 
systeme  de  defamation,  de  mensonges,  et  d'injures,  de- 
ploye  depuis  quelques  annees  dans  le  Journal  Officiel  de 
France,  a  de  pernicieux  pour  1'honneur,  la  tranquillite, 
et  la  surete  de  1'Europe.  Ce  sujet  n'avait  pas  encore 
ete  traite.  Je  me  flatte  que  cet  ouvrage  sera  bientot 
traduit  en  Angleterre. 

"  En  ce  que  me  dites  de  '  Dumont,  Traite  de  Legis- 
lation/ &c.,  je  me  trouve  —  et  cela  pour  la  premiere  fois 
depuis  que  nous  nous  connaissons  —  diametralement 
oppose  a  votre  opinion.  Je  trouve  cet  ouvrage  mauvais 
d'un  bout  a  1'autre ;  la  partie  des  soi-dis&ns  principes  est 
surtout  (selon  moi)  audessous  de  tout ;  je  ne  puis  pas 
meme  conQevoir  par  quoi  il  a  pu  vous  gagner.  L'article 
qui  le  traite  dans  le  ( Edimbourg  Revue '  s'approche  de 
mon  opinion  ;  niais  je  le  trouve  encore  trop  doux.  Nous 
nous  expliquerons  sur  cela,  lorsque  vous  reviendrez  en 
Europe ;  une  difference  fondamentale  et  permanente  dans 
notre  maniere  de  juger  est  une  chose  que  je  regarde 
comme  impossible:  il  y  a  peu  d'hommes  avec  lesquels  je 
m'entends  si  parfaitement,  et  meme  dans  les  choses,  ou 
nous  ne  sommes  pas  absolument  d'accord,  qu'avec  vous. 
Quel  plaisir  ce  sera  pour  moi,  que  de  vous  revoir  apres 
une  si  longue  absence.  En  attendant  comptez  toujours 
sur  moi,  comme  sur  le  plus  fidele  et  le  plus  invariable  de 
vos  amis." 

On  the  13th  of  September  following,  he  again  writes, 
in  transports  of  joy,  at  the  breaking  out  of  the  war, 
"  Enfin,  cher  ami,  les  voiles  sont  tombes,  et  la  guerre 
est  a  notre  porte."  He  mentions  various  particulars 
regarding  the  Austrian  armies — their  commanders — 
Mack  (qui  unus  homo  nob  is  restituit  rem),  the  invasion 
and  occupation  of  Bavaria,  and  the  breaking  off  of  nego- 
ciations  with  Buonaparte.  Even  then  they  had  not  heard 


1806.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  301 

of  the  breaking  up  of  the  camp  at  Boulogne,  seventeen 
days  before,  though  it  was  expected.  "  Je  vous  en  dirai 
davantage,"  he  concludes,  "  par  la  premiere  occasion. 
Je  suis  comme  un  homme  qui  sort  d'un  reve,  et,  avec 
cela,  opprime  de  travail.  Dieu  soit  loue,  que  du  moins 
le  jour  commence  a  reparaitre,  apres  ces  tenebres 
Egyptiennes." 

The  astonishing  operations  that  followed  are  but  too 
well  known.  The  Austrian  monarchy  was  laid  pros- 
trate at  Ulm  and  Austerlitz.  Gentz,  who  from  his 
literary  activity,  had  become  a  marked  object  of  Buona- 
parte's resentment,  was  forced  to  abscond  from  the 
Austrian  dominions,  and  to  skulk  for  some  time  among 
the  smaller  states  of  Germany.  In  the  beginning  of 
January,  1806,  he  sought  a  refuge  at  Dresden.  On  the 
6th  of  May  of  the  same  year,  while  still  in  that  hospi- 
table retreat,  he  wrote  to  his  friend  in  India  a  bold  and 
masterly  account  of  all  that  had  happened — of  the  treaty 
of  Potsdam,  signed  November  3rd  preceding,  between 
Prussia,  Russia,  and  Austria,  for  reducing  the  power  of 
Buonaparte — of  the  march  of  the  Prussian  army  to  cut  off 
his  retreat,  and  its  retrograde  movement  on  hearing  of 
the  battle  of  Austeelitz.  Austria  released  Prussia  from 
its  obligations,  and  Buonaparte  shut  his  eyes ;  resolving, 
as  Gentz  justly  concluded,  to  take  his  own  vengeance 
in  his  own  time.  The  battle  of  Jena,  fought  five  months 
after  his  letter,  showed  that,  in  this  instance  at  least, 
Gentz  was  not  a  false  prophet.  This  letter,  sent  over- 
land through  the  English  ambassador,  was  accompanied 
by  two  small  packets  of  books  and  pamphlets.  Even  in 
the  lowest  pitch  of  political  depression,  he  still  cherished 
the  unextinguishable  love  of  letters  and  the  hopes  of 
better  days.  "  Je  fais  encore  un  autre  essai  plus  hardi. 
Je  vous  envois  (separement)  un  livre,  par  lequel,  s'il 
vous  parvient,  je  crois  vous  faire  un  grand  cadeau.  Ce 

VOL.  i.  26 


302  LIFE   OF   THE  [1806. 

sont  des  lectures  sur  la  litterature  Allemande,  faites  sous 
mes  yeux  a  Dresde,  devant  une  assemblee  de  soixante 
personnes,  par  un  homme  qui  n'a  pas  encore  vingt-sept 
ans,  et  que  je  regarde  dans  ce  moment  comme  le  pre- 
mi&re  genie  de  V Allemagne.  Ce  n'est  pas  si  proprement 
un  cours  d'instruction  qu'un  recueil:  ce  sont  des  dis- 
cours  libres,  le  resultat  d'une  profondeur  etonnante  de 
raisonnement,  et  d'une  richesse  et  beaute*  d'imagination, 
qui  rendraient  Adam  Mu'ller*  un  des  plus  grands  poetes, 
s'il  voulait  1'etre,  mais  qui  ne  gate  rien  a  sa  philosophic. 
Vous  n'entendrez  pas  tout,  vous  n'approuverez  pas  tout 
dans  ce  livre  ;  mais  soyez  sur  que  c'est  la  la  plus  grande 
hauteur  a  laquelle  1'esprit  speculatif  se  soit  jamais  eleve 
chez  nous.  Vous  verrez  bientot,  que  Kant,  Fichte  et 
Schelling  sont  deja  bien  loin  derriere  ce  nouveau  pro- 
phete ;  le  fait  est,  que  le  cercle  est  parcouru ;  tous  les 
systemes  philosophiques  possibles  sont  (jpuises  en  Alle- 
magne  depuis  vingt  ans ;  nous  avons  retrouve  1'equilibre ; 
nous  cherchons  de  movder,  inonter,  monter,  toujours  \  nous 
avons  reconnu  enfin,  que  c'est  au  centre  que  tout  doit 
finir. 

u  Que  de  choses  j'aurais  a  vous  dire,  si  nous  nous 
rencontrions  aujourd'hui !  Quel  chemin  j'ai  fait  depuis 
que  je  vous  ai  vu  a  Londres !  Et  combien,  au  milieu  de 
tous  les  troubles  et  de  tous  les  dechiremens  politiques,  et 
de  toutes  les  souffrances  de  mes  amis,  le  bonheur  d'etre 
a  moi,  a  la  fin,  a  un  etat  de  satisfaction  interne,  que  rien 
ne  derangera  plus,  m'a  soutenu  et  releve  sans  cesse !  Les 
quatre  mois  que  j'ai  passes  ici,  comptent  parmi  les  plus 
precieux  de  ma  vie.  Le  Saxe  est  comme  une  isle,  entoure 
d'un  ocean  enrage ;  ce  petit  pays  est  absolument  le  seul 
de  1'Allemagne  que  ni  les  rnalheurs,  ni  la  honte  aient 
atteint.  II  est  impossible,  qu'il  reste  longtems  dans  cette 

*  Afterwards  Austrian  Consul-General  at  Leipsic. 


1806.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  303 

situation  privilegee;  mais  jusqu'ici  Dresde  etait  un  asyle, 
dont  il  faut  avoir  senti  le  prix  pour  le  comprendre.  C'est 
d'ici  que  j'ai  assist*}  a  ce  spectacle  de  decomposition  gene- 
rale,  navre  de  douleur,  mais  toujours  console  par  une 
reunion  rare  de  tout  ce  qu'il  y  avait  d'emigres  interessans 
des  differentes  parties  de  1'Allemagne  et  de  1'Europe ;  et 
partageant  mon  terns  entre  des  travaux  penibles  relatifs 
aux  affaires  publiques,  et  des  conversations  inestimables 
sur  les  plus  sublimes  objets  dont  1'esprit  humain  puisse 
s'occuper.  Je  puis  dire,  sans  exageration,  que  ce  melange, 
ce  mouvement  perpetuel,  ces  contrastes  frappantes,  ces 
occupations  si  disparates  en  apparence,  et  pourtant  si 
completement,  si  centralement  rapprochees,  m'ont  fait 
vivre  dix  ans  dans  six  mois. 

"  Hatez-vous  de  quitter  votre  station ;  c'est  un  mauvais 
terns  que  vous  avez  choisi  pour  quitter  1'Europe.  Venez 
souffrir  avec  nous ;  il  y  a  quelque  chose  a  faire  dans  ce 
genre ;  mais  venez  aussi  partager  nos  consolations  et  nos 
e*sperances.  Je  me  rejouis  plus  que  je  ne  saurais  le  dire, 
de  vous  revoir.  Vous  etes  un  des  miroirs  le  plus  fideles 
pour  representer,  pour  concentrer  1'ensemble  de  la  phy- 
siognomic du  siecle.  C'est  un  crime  a  vous  que  de  vous 
derober  a  1'Europe  dans  la  plus  '  atvful'  crise,  que  jamais 
les  affaires  humaines  aient  e"prouvee.  Ecrivez-moi  toujours 
a,  Vienne,  c'est  par  la  que  vos  lettres  me  parviendront, 
quelque  soit  1'endroit  ou  je  me  trouve.  Mais  surtout 
instruisez-moi  bien  exactement  de  1'epoque  de  votre  de- 
part ;  je  ferois  un  voyage  de  cent  lieues  pour  vous  ren- 
contrer ;  mais  helas !  ou  sommes  nous  dans  un  an ! 

"  Adieu,  cher  Mackintosh ;  quelle  idee  terrible,  que 
je  ne  saurai  pas,  avant  la  fin  de  1'annee,  si  cette  lettre,  et 
les  deux  paquets  ci-joints  vous  auront  trouve.  Comptez 
pour  la  vie  sur 

"Votre  deVoue*, 

«  GENTZ." 


304  LIFE    OF   THE  [1806. 

TO   M.    GENTZ,   VIENNA. 

"  Bombay,  24th  December,  1806. 

"  I  received  your  letter  of  the  6th  May  in  the  end 
of  September.  I  have  read  it  fifty  times  since,  with 
the  same  sentiment  which  a  Roman  at  the  extremity  of 
Mauritania  would  probably  have  felt,  if  he  had  received 
an  account  of  the  ruin  of  his  country,  written  the  morn- 
ing after  the  battle  of  Pharsalia,  with  all  the  unconquer- 
able spirit  of  Cato,  and  the  terrible  energy  of  Tacitus. 
He  would  have  exulted  that  there  was  something  which 
Caesar  could  not  subdue,  and  from  which  a  deliverer  and 
an  avenger  might  yet  spring.  Perhaps,  after  the  first 
ardour  of  his  feelings  had  subsided,  he  might  allow  him- 
self for  a  moment  to  gratify  a  better  part  of  him  than  his 
vanity,  by  the  reflection  that  he  was  thought  worthy  of 
such  a  letter,  and  such  a  correspondent. 

"I  received,  by  the  same  mail,  your  two  precious 
packets.  I  assent  to  all  you  say,  sympathise  with  all 
you  feel,  and  admire  equally  your  reason  and  your 
eloquence  throughout  your  masterly  fragment.*  Of 
your  young  philosopher  I  can  only  say,  as  Socrates  did 
of  Heraclitus,  that  what  I  understand  is  admirable,  and 
that  I  presume  what  I  do  not  understand  to  be  equally 
admirable.  But  this  speculative  philosophy  presupposes 
a  thorough  familiarity  with  the  course  of  your  specula- 
tions, which  I  have  not  yet  acquired.  Your  national 
manner  of  thinking  and  writing  on  these  subjects  is  now 
become  as  different  from  the  philosophical  style  of  France 
and  England,  and  indeed  from  that  of  Garve  or  Lessing, 
as  Oriental  is  from  Western  poetry.  You  allude  to 
subleties  which  everywhere  else  are  expounded;  you 
employ,  in  a  popular  and  metaphorical  sense,  the  tech- 

*  On  the  Balance  of  Power  in  Europe. 


1806.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR    JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  305 

nical  terms  of  the  most  abstruse  and,  perhaps,  the  most 
transitory  system. 

"  I  was  so  much  struck  with  what  Mr.  Miiller  says  of 
Burke,  that  I  sent  to  Windham  a  translation,  a  little 
subdued  and  mitigated,  to  fit  it  for  the  English  taste. 
Brandy  is  put  into  the  Bordeaux  wine  designed  for  our 
market ;  but  your  German  philosophical  eloquence  must, 
on  the  contrary,  be  lowered,  and  considerably  diluted  for 
our  palate.  I  wish  I  could  tempt  Mr.  Miiller  to  come 
and  spend  a  year  or  two  with  me  here,  in  exploring  those 
systems  of  idealism  which  seem  to  have  been  taught  in 
India  twenty  centuries  ago.  I  have  only  begun  the  San- 
scrit, one  of  the  most  difficult  of  all  languages,  which, 
however,  is  the  only  key  to  the  vestibule  of  the  vast 
edifice  of  Indian  learning.  The  vedanti  system,  which 
is  the  prevalent  doctrine  of  the  learned,  is  a  pantheistic 
idealism,  not  wholly  dissimilar  to  the  doctrine  of  Schel- 
ling,  if  I  have  any  glimpse  into  this  last. 

"  Soon  after  your  letter,  I  received  your  large  exporta- 
tion of  books,  among  which  I  first  sought  for  your  own, 
and  of  them,  for  your  translation  of  Burke*  first;  in 
which  I  admired  both  your  power  and  the  force  of  the 
German  language,  till  this  disinterested  admiration  was 
disturbed  by  sentiments  of  a  more  personal  nature.  I 
will  own  to  you  that  I  seldom  found  praise  more  sweet 
than  yours.  I  felt  a  very  singular  pleasure  in  finding 
that  our  minds  had  contracted  a  friendship,  so  many 
years  before  it  was  likely  we  should  ever  see  each  other's 
face,  and  at  a  time  when  we  stood  in  the  ranks  of  hostile 
armies.  You  deserve  sincerity,  and  I  hope  I  may  venture 
on  it.  I  tell  you  then,  that  though  you  have  been  prodi- 
gally generous  to  the  book,  yet  perhaps  you  would  not 

*  «  The  Reflections." 

26* 


306  LIFE    OF   THE  [1806. 

have  thought  yourself  more  than  liberally  just  to  the 
author/ if  you  had  known  all  the  difficulties  under  which 
he  wrote. 

"I  afterwards  read  through  your  Journals,  1799.  I 
admired,  without  adopting  your  opinion  on  the  Sove- 
reignty. It  is  certainly  a  most  ingenious,  and  the  only 
reasonable  modification  of  the  Lockian  and  Rousseau vian 
principle,  which,  however,  I  should  rather  confute  than 
modify.  If  you  happen  to  have  my  little  Discourse 
introductory  to  my  Lectures,  you  will  see  our  coinci- 
dence on  liberty,  which  I  define  to  be,  our  security 
against  wrong  from  rulers,  called  political  liberty,  or 
from  our  fellows,  called  civil  liberty. 

"  We  wrote  almost  at  the  same  moment.  Your  view 
of  the  causes  and  progress  of  the  French  Revolution  is, 
in  my  opinion,  the  most  important  and  instructive  docu- 
ment for  the  philosophical  historian  which  the  world  has 
yet  seen.  I  wish  it  were  translated  into  English  and 
French,  though  the  populace  might  be  deterred  by  the 
length  of  a  work  of  mere  reflection,  on  a  political  subject 
not  the  immediate  order  of  the  day.  For  me  it  is  too 
short.  Notwithstanding  my  close  attention  to  the  sub- 
ject, it  has  given  me  new  facts  and  new  views.  Your 
enlarged  prospect  gives  you  no  disdain  for  the  minute 
accuracy  of  a  conscientious  compiler; — make  it  the  basis 
of  a  philosophical  review  of  the  history  of  the  Revolu- 
tion, and  its  progeny  of  wars  and  new  revolutions,  in 
which  you  will  execute  j  ustice  upon  the  present  age,  and 
instruct  the  latest  posterity.  All  your  other  works  will 
contribute  materials  towards  this  monument ;  they  should 
all  be  translated  out  of  temporary  into  permanent  lan- 
guage. I  am  not  enough  advanced  in  German  to  make 
my  literary  suffrage  of  value ;  but,  except  Lessing  and 
Garve,  who  are  both  great  favourites  of  mine,  yours  is  the 


1806.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  307 

only  argumentative  prose  which  I  have  read  with  pleasure 
in  your  language.  If  you  will  write  such  a  work,  I  pledge 
my  honour  to  be  your  English  translator. 

"  I  feel  some  pain  at  hearing  that  accident  should  have 
kept  you  and  Adair*  asunder  at  Vienna.  He  is  worthy 
of  your  friendship,  as  I  have  already  told  him  that  you 
are  of  his. 

"  You  speak  to  me  of  leaving  India.  Would  to 
Heaven  that  I  had  any  near  prospect  of  such  an  emanci- 
pation !  The  prospect  of  liberty  and  leisure  in  my  old 
age  allured  me  to  a  colony ;  but  the  prospect  is  distant 
and  uncertain,  and  the  evil  is  such,  that  if  I  had  known 
it,  no  prospect  could  have  tempted  me  to  encounter  it. 
In  this  exile  from  the  intellectual  world,  where  I  have  as  a 
companion,  indeed,  one  woman  of  genius  and  feeling,  your 
letters  are  among  my  chief  consolations  and  enjoyments. 

"  I  have  neither  knowledge  nor  courage  to  write  about 
the  affairs  of  Europe.  I  believe,  like  you,  in  a  resurrec- 
tion, because  I  believe  in  the  immortality  of  civilisation ; 
but  when,  how,  by  whom,  in  what  form,  are  questions 
which  I  have  not  the  sagacity  to  answer,  and  on  which 
I  have  not  the  boldness  to  hazard  a  conjecture.  A 
dark  and  stormy  night,  a  black  series  of  ages,  may  be 
prepared  for  our  posterity,  before  the  dawn  that  opens 
the  more  perfect  day.  Where  may  our  asylum  finally 
be  ?  If  you  have  the  English  poets,  look  at  the  four 
lines  in  '  Gray's  Bard,'  which  are  as  follows  : — 

'  Fond,  impious  man !  think'st  thou  yon  sanguine  cloud, 
Raised  by  thy  breath,  can  quench  the  orb  of  day  ? 
To-morrow  he  repairs  the  golden  flood, 
And  warms  the  nations  with  redoubled  ray.' 

But  when  will '  to-morrow '  dawn  ? 

*  The  Right  Honourable  Sir  Robert  Adair,  G.  C.  B.,  now  Ambas- 
sador at  the  Court  of  the  King  of  the  Belgians. 


308  LIFE   OF   THE  [1806. 

"  Can  I  make  a  stronger  appeal  to  your  kindness  and 
generosity  than  I  have  already  done,  on  the  subject  of 
correspondence  ?  I  should  have  written  to  you  often 
cf  late,  but  till  the  receipt  of  your  last  letter,  I  did 
not  know  on  what  shore  the  storm  of  Ulm  and  Auster- 
litz  had  driven  you,  even  you.  I  wish  I  had  some 
address  at  Vienna,  independent  of  changes  in  the  Eng- 
lish Legation,  and  of  those  caprices  which  may  attend 
them. 

"  Lady  Mr  ckintosh  is  charmed  with  your  letter,  and  so 
thoroughly  partakes  your  sentiments,  that  she  thinks 
herself  entitled  to  a  place  in  your  friendship,  and  I  am 
persuaded  you  would  think  so  too  if  you  knew  her. 
'  Vale,  nostri  memor.'  Be  generous  in  your  correspond- 
ence to  yours, 

"J.  MACKINTOSH. 

"You  do  not  mention  whether  you  received  a  long 
letter  by  way  of  Hamburgh,  in  which,  as  well  as  in  some 
other,  I  made  proposals  that  a  young  German  philosopher 
should  try  his  fortune  with  me.  I  supposed  him  to  be 
able,  learned,  honest,  and  agreeable.  I  could  ensure  him 
creditable  support,  and  in  some  years,  a  small  competence, 
with  an  opportunity  which  many  would  envy,  of  becoming 
a  master  of  Oriental  erudition.  He  might  come  easily 
and  cheaply  in  a  neutral  ship,  from  Altona  or  Copen- 
hagen to  Tranquebar ;  and  from  that  place  hither,  there 
is  no  difficulty." 

The  following  is  the  letter,  which  contains  the  commu- 
nication to  Mr.  "Windham,  respecting  Mr.  Burke,  alluded 
to  above,  and  which  is  otherwise  curious,  as  revealing  an 
object  of  literary  ambition  connected  with  the  latter  indi- 
vidual, which  floated  pretty  constantly  before  the  writer's 
fancy. 


1806.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  309 

TO     THE     RIGHT     HONOURABLE     WILLIAM    WINDHAM, 
&C.  &C.  &C. 

"  Bombay,  December  16^,  1806. 

"  DEAR  SIR,  —  I  have  sometimes  doubted  whether  I 
might  take  the  liberty  of  addressing  you  at  all ;  and  I 
certainly  should  have  thought  such  a  liberty  inexcusable, 
if  my  letter  were  not  sure  of  being  distinguished  from 
most  of  those  that  are  written  to  a  minister,  by  the  pecu- 
liarity of  neither  offering  opinion,  nor  soliciting  favour. 
That  on  which  I  write  must  not  be  called  more  important 
than  the  security  and  salvation  of  an  empire  ;  but  I  may 
venture  to  say,  that  it  will  be  longer  considered  as  im- 
portant, and  will  interest  a  posterity  too  distant  from  our 
present  politics  to  know,  much  more  to  feel  much  about 
them,  beyond  their  general  outlines.  It  may  seem  a 
strange  way  of  introducing  oneself  to  the  notice  of  a  great 
statesman,  to  represent  any  thing  as  more  permanently 
important  than  his  own  art ;  and  I  have  only  to  say  in 
excuse  for  such  seeming  awkwardness,  that  if  I  had  thought 
you  only  a  statesman,  I  should  not  have  troubled  you 
on  the  present  occasion. 

u  A  minute  fell  into  my  hands  lately,  signed  by  Lord 
Buckinghamshire,  when  Governor  of  Madras,  but  written 
by  Mr.  Webbe,  then  secretary  to  that  government,  a  man 
of  great  abilities,  though  unfortunately  a  successful  advo- 
cate of  violent  counsels.  This  minute  traces  with  accuracy 
and  force,  the  system  of  creating  fictitious  debts  of  the 
Nabob  of  Arcot,  and  the  consequences  of  that  system, 
visible  in  the  general  desolation  of  the  country.  It  was 
written  ten  years  after  the  speech  of  Mr.  Burke  on  that 
subject ;  and  it  seems  to  me  to  be  valuable,  as  a  curious 
and  extraordinary  proof  of  the  correctness  with  which  he 
stated  the  past,  and  the  wonderful  sagacity  with  which 
he  foresaw  the  future.  I  thought  it  important  to  prove 


310  LIFE   OF   THE  [1806. 

that  he  was  invariably  faithful  in  his  historical  descrip- 
tions; that  he  never  sacrificed  exactness  to  oratorical 
effect ;  that,  in  the  pursuit  of  grandeur,  his  conscience  as 
much  forbad  the  exaggeration  of  fact,  as  his  taste  did 
that  of  ideas;  and  that  his  predictions,  far  from  the 
ravings  of  his  hopes  and  his  fears,  were  full  of  that  spirit 
of  philosophical  prophecy,  which  sees  effects  in  their 
causes.  With  this  view,  and  as  a  very  small  contribution 
towards  Mr.  Burke's  biography,  I  have  the  honour  to 
enclose  a  copy  of  the  minute.  I  should  have  probably 
sent  it  to  Dr.  Lawrence,  without  troubling  you,  had  he 
not  rather  checked  my  zeal,  by  not  noticing  the  mite 
which  I  sent  him  about  two  years  ago. 

"  I  shall  also  mention,  that  his  biographer  might,  I 
think,  read  with  advantage  M.  Gentz's  preface  and  addi- 
tion to  the  German  translation  of  the l  Keflections,'  which 
it  would  be  easy  to  have  translated  into  English,  if  Dr. 
L.  should  not  read  German.  I  cannot  forbear  to  trans- 
late a  passage  from  a  German  work,  printed  this  year, 
though  at  the  risk  of  disappointing  you,  not  only  from 
my  haste  and  unskilfulness,  but  from  that  much  more 
than  ordinary  difference  in  national  habits  of  thought 
and  expression,  which  now  prevails  between  the  Germans 
and  the  other  cultivated  nations  of  Europe.  '  The  most 
important  epoch  in  the  history  of  German  politics,  is  the 
introduction  of  Edmund  Burke  among  us,  the  greatest, 
most  profound,  most  powerful,  most  humane  and  heroic 
statesman  of  all  times  and  nations.  His  works  are  trans- 
lated ;  what  is  more,  are  understood  by  us.  We  endea- 
vour to  live,  and  reason,  and  write  in  their  spirit.  He  is 
only  truly  honoured  among  strangers ;  while  his  country 
but  half  understands  him,  and  feels  only  half  his  glory ; 
considering  him  chiefly  as  a  brilliant  orator,  as  a  partisan, 
and  a  patriot.  He  is  acknowledged,  in  Germany,  as  the 
real  and  successful  mediator  between  liberty  and  law, 


1806.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  311 

between  union  and  division  of  power,  and  between  the 
republican  and  the  aristocratic  principles.' 

"  This  extract  is  from  lectures  on  German  literature, 
delivered  at  Dresden,  in  spring,  1806,  by  Adam  Miiller, 
a  young  man  of  twenty-six,  whom  Gentz  considers  as  the 
first  genius  of  his  country.  I  thought  it  possible,  that 
some  part  of  it  might  have  sprung  unconsciously  and 
remotely  from  a  conversation,  which  I  had  with  M.  Gentz 
in  London  ;  and  I  was  struck,  by  its  general  coincidence, 
with  that  manner  of  thinking,  certainly  not  peculiar  to 
me,  but  so  much  less  common  than  it  ought  to  be. 

"  It  may  seem  a  paradox  to  assert  of  a  writer  of  so 
splendid  a  fame  as  that  of  Mr.  Burke,  that  the  larger 
number,  even  of  reading  and  thinking  men,  are  blinded 
by  prejudice  to  that,  which  makes  the  most  solid  part  of 
his  glory;  but  it  is  certainly  true.  He  is  considered 
chiefly  as  an  orator,  and  a  mere  writer.  It  is  true,  that 
for  a  time  there  was  a  cry  about  his  wisdom  and  his  fore- 
sight; but  even  this  was,  I  fear,  the  roar  of  a  rabble, 
heated  by  temporary  enthusiasm.  When  this  enthusiasm 
has  subsided,  the  writing  and  reading  vulgar  will,  I  fear, 
be  disposed  to  place  his  style  first,  his  imagination  second, 
and  his  wisdom  last  in  the  order  of  his  excellences.  This 
monstrous  inversion  of  truth,  this  usurpation  of  subordi- 
nate talents  on  transcendent  powers,  is  favoured  by  many 
prejudices,  political  and  literary.  In  a  country  of  parties, 
Mr.  Burke  has  left  no  large  body  of  personal  adherents. 
Friends  and  disciples  he  has  left ;  but  adherents,  indeed, 
strictly  speaking,  he  could  have  none.  On  the  contrary, 
it  was  his  fate, 

'  For  a  patriot  too  cool,  for  a  drudge  disobedient,' 

in  one  part  or  other  of  his  course,  to  encounter  adversely 
all  the  great  parties,  who,  being  the  growth  of  permanent 
circumstances,  are  likely  always  to  divide  England.  His 


312  LIFE   OF   THE  [1806. 

writings  will  always  afford  authorities  against  the  excesses 
of  any  of  their  parties,  which,  as  they  proceed  from  the 
most  inflamed  zeal,  must  ever  be  the  darling  measures  of 
every  numerous  body.  This  is,  and  will  be,  aided  by  the 
difficulty  which  the  common  thinker  must  feel,  in  tracing 
the  links  of  the  chain  that  holds  together  the  parts  of 
Mr.  Burke's  life,  as  a  consistent  whole.  I  take  some 
credit  to  myself  for  having  discovered  it,  when  I  was 
young,  and,  on  many  other  things,  much  mistaken. 
Every  man  can  see  dissimilarity  of  actions,  or  words; 
but  not  many  can  see  how  necessarily  that  may  arise, 
from  that  very  unchangeable  identity  of  principle.  The 
very  elevation  of  his  principles,  the  circumstance  which 
alone  could  make  them  influence  events  the  most  distant, 
hides  these  principles  from  the  vulgar  eye.  Mr.  B.'s 
writings,  almost  all,  profess  to  be  speeches,  or  pamphlets, 
on  the  events  of  the  time,  and  to  have  the  temporary 
object  of  persuading,  or  dissuading  the  public,  as  well  as 
the  permanent  one  of  instructing  all  mankind.  Their 
profound  philosophy  is  never  altogether  detached  from 
those  forms  of  popular  eloquence,  which  are  necessary  to 
the  former  of  these  purposes. 

"  These  are  powerful  circumstances  with  the  mob  of 
readers,  and  even  of  writers.  I  have  often  observed,  that 
the  authors  of  quarto  volumes  are  objects  of  deep  reve- 
rence in  provinces  and  colonies ;  *  but  in  the  capital  I  was 
generally  fortunate  enough  to  keep  above  the  votaries  of 
such  a  superstition.  A  pile  of  quartos  may  deter  readers 
from  perusal,  but  it  also  deters  common  critics  from 
attack.  They  never  recognise  a  philosopher  without  his 

*  "  Why  do  you  not,"  asked  one  of  his  friends,  writing  from  England, 
"  write  three  volumes  quarto  ?  You  only  want  this  to  be  called  the 
greatest  man  of  your  time.  People  are  all  disposed  to  admit  any  thing 
we  say  of  you,  but  I  think  it  unsafe  and  indecent  to  put  you  so  high 
without  something  in  quarto." 


1806.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  313 

cap  and  robes.  When  he  appears  with  axioms  and  pos- 
tulates, or  even  with  books  and  chapters  (which  is  the 
more  modern  fashion),  they  may  hint  that  he  is  wrong, 
but  they  dare  not  intimate  that  he  is  an  egregious  trifler, 
which,  however,  may  very  easily  be  true.  So  obstinate  is 
this  prejudice,  that  men  of  understanding,  very  superior 
to  such  pretenders,  have  given  me  credit  for  original 
observations,  merely  on  account  of  a  translation  of  some 
part  of  Mr.  Burke  into  technical  language,  out  of  that 
eloquence  and  temporary  application  which  he  employed 
— a  translation  which  I  made,  only  as  an  experiment  to 
ascertain  whether  what  I  now  say  was  well-founded.  A 
common  man  is  apt  to  think  that  a  form  of  composition, 
which  has  a  temporary  object,  and  generally  a  transient 
interest,  can  never  have  any  other ;  and  he  is  apt  to  sup- 
pose that  what  is  very  eloquent,  is  only  eloquent.  The 
silly  pedantry  of  systems  of  criticism  helps  to  confound 
the  intrinsic  difference  of  books,  under  the  superficial 
resemblance  of  their  external  form ;  and  by  an  excessive 
— I  had  almost  said  perfidious — commendation  of  his  elo- 
quence, Mr.  B.  has  been  robbed,  in  some  measure,  of 
his  far  higher  praises.  It  is  an  operation  of  some  diffi- 
culty to  collect  fragments  of  philosophy  from  the  various 
corners,  where  the  end  of  temporary  persuasion,  and  the 
form  of  popular  discourse,  have  required  that  they  should 
be  scattered ;  to  arrange  and  distribute  them  in  the  order 
which  is  best  adapted  to  enlighten  the  understanding  of 
all  times ;  to  separate  general  principles  from  the  passing 
events  to  which  they  are  applied,  and  to  disengage  pro- 
found truths  from  the  gorgeous  robes  of  eloquence,  which 
are  too  dazzling  to  be  penetrated  by  very  feeble  intellects ; 
to  distinguish  between  the  philosopher — the  teacher  of 
political  wisdom  to  all  posterity,  and  the  unrivalled  orator, 
who  employed  his  genius  in  guarding  his  contemporaries 
against  the  evils  of  the  times.  It  is  the  more  difficult, 
VOL.  i.  27 


314  LIFE   OF   THE  [1806. 

because  philosophy  itself  taught  the  necessity  of  con- 
stantly disguising  the  philosopher  as  an  orator,  without 
which  it  was  obvious  that  the  immediate  and  urgent  end 
could  not  be  attained,  and  the  permanent  end  might  be 
more  endangered  than  it  could  be  [advanced]  directly. 
Yet  this  difficulty  must  be  overcome  by  one  who  rises  to 
a  true  conception  of  Mr.  Burke. 

"One  prejudice  more  I  cannot  forbear  to  mention. 
It  is  a  prejudice  of  a  more  obstinate,  because  of  a  more 
refined,  and  apparently  rational  character  than  the  other. 
It  is  easy  to  represent,  nay,  perhaps  it  is  natural  to  con- 
sider, the  object  of  his  most  celebrated  writings  as  at 
variance  with  the  great  end  of  all  writings — the  improve- 
ment of  mankind.  It  is  admitted,  perhaps,  that  the 
security  of  states  might,  for  the  tune,  require  such  works ; 
but  the  general  interest  is  said  rather  to  require,  in  all 
ordinary  tunes ;  and  in  all  times  when  the  mischiefs  are 
different  and  opposite ;  that  the  maxims  which  prevail  in 
such  writings  should  be  discouraged.  It  is  obvious  that 
I  allude  to  his  works  on  the  French  revolution.  This 
is  a  most  deep-rooted  prejudice,  especially  among  that 
class  of  writers  who  come  into  immediate  contact  with 
the  popular  understanding.  Much  of  its  speciousness 
depends  on  the  confusion  of  temporary  and  permanent 
ends,  and  consequently  of  rhetorical  order  with  scientific 
method.  If  propositions  were  to  be  understood  as  gene- 
rally in  science,  as  they  are  expressed  in  eloquence,  all 
fine  writers  must  be  sent  to  Bedlam.  In  a  book  of  science, 
the  correctives  and  limitations  ought  to  attend  the  posi- 
tion, or  at  least  to  be  within  sight  of  it.  In  Mr.  B. 
they  must  be  sought  for  either  in  the  nature  of  things, 
when  they  are  either  too  obvious,  or  no  practical  oppor- 
tunity has  occurred  for  the  practical  statesman  to  bring 
them  out — or  they  will  be  found  in  distant  parts  of  his 
works  where  he  was  called  upon  to  enforce  them  for 


1806.]  RIGHT   HON.   SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  315 

the  defence  of  other  portions  of  the  general  system.  Con- 
siderations of  a  still  higher  order,  and  still  greater  diffi- 
culty, belong  to  the  subject.  The  licence  which  prepares 
for  slavery,  and  the  restraints  which  ensure  and  accelerate 
ultimate  progress,  are  suspicious  topics  in  the  mouths  of 
the  powerful,  and  their  sycophants ;  but  they  are  subjects, 
perhaps,  not  enough  attended  to  in  considering  the  edu- 
cation of  the  human  race  —  that  vast  work  of  so  many 
ages,  of  which  we  see  only  a  few  steps. 

"I  have  mentioned  these  circumstances  to  account  for 
what  I  have  ventured  to  assert,  that,  notwithstanding  the 
popularity  of  Mr.  B.'s  name,  his  true  and  transcendent 
merit  is  not  popular ;  that  he  is  not  only  under-praised, 
but,  if  you  will  forgive  the  word,  wz£s-praised ;  and  to 
justify  myself  for  being  sometimes  as  much  out  of  humour 
with  his  panegyrists,  as  with  his  detractors.  The  multi- 
tude almost  always  take  their  ideas  from  writers,  who 
being  just  above  themselves,  are  quite  intelligible  to  them. 
When  these  take  their  opinions  from  their  lawful  supe- 
riors in  the  republic  of  letters, — when  this  is  continued  up 
to  the  highest,  every  thing  is  in  the  proper  order.  But 
the  elevation  of  Mr.  Burke  above  these  useful  common 
writers  is  so  vast,  the  region  he  inhabits,  his  thoughts, 
his  language  are  so  utterly  unlike  theirs,  that  an  inter- 
preter, or  a  series  of  interpreters,  must  be  placed  between 
them.  His  genius,  his  eloquence,  every  part  of  him, 
deranged  and  shook  some  part  of  their  puny  traditional 
system  of  taste  and  rules.  He  must  be  explained  to 
them;  his  principles  must  be  brought  into  such  order 
that  their  real,  though  systematic  connexion,  may  become 
apparent;  his  language  must  be  translated.  The  pre- 
judices of  such  writers  and  readers  must  be  handled  with 
address  and  tenderness.  These  are  the  important  offices 
of  Mr.  Burke's  biographer ;  and  perhaps  a  fit  biographer 
is  more  important  to  his  just  fame,  than  ever  such  a 


316  LIFE    OF   THE  [1806. 

person  was  before  to  a  great  man.  Ten  years  have  almost 
passed  since  Mr.  Burke's  death.  This  is  by  no  means  a 
long  time  to  employ  in  writing  his  life ;  but  it  is  too  long 
to  elapse  before  it  is  begun.  I  hope  this  is  not  the  case 
with  Dr.  Lawrence.  But,  notwithstanding  his  Herculean 
industry,  I  dread  his  constant  occupations.  I  wish  I 
heard  that  the  work  was  advanced. 

If  he  had  begun  to  despair  of  it,  from  the  multiplicity 
of  his  avocations,  I  should  not  indeed  know  with  what 
face  to  propose  myself,  if  my  face  were  now  seen  by  any 
one ;  but  on  paper  I  may  say  that  I  speak 

'  Non  ita  certandi  cupidus,  quam  propter  amorem,' 

and  that  I  have  some  qualifications  which  I  may  state 
without  immodesty — ardent  zeal,  undisturbed  leisure, 
the  independence  of  a  hopeless  situation  in  discussing 
recent  politics,  which,  perhaps,  no  man  in  England  can 
have — an  impartiality  between  Mr.  B.  and  his  most  illus- 
trious friend,  at  the  most  critical  moment  of  their  lives, 
not  arising  from  stupid  insensibility  to  the  extraordinary 
merit  of  both,  but  from  that  almost  equal  affection  .and 
equal  admiration,  which  renders  equal  justice  and  exerts 
equal  candour.  I  am  almost  ashamed  to  add  the  appear- 
ance of  a  homage  offered  by  a  person,  who  was  so  unim- 
portant an  adversary;  but  I  ought  not  to  omit  some 
familiarity  with  the  very  prejudices  most  necessary  to  be 
managed  on  such  an  occasion.  There  must  remain  in 
Mr.  B.'s  friends  a  right  to  add  whatever  was  thought 
necessary,  and  to  disclaim  whatever  was  deemed  im- 
proper. This  presumptuous  vision  has  sometimes  cheered 
my  exile ;  and  I  own  that  the  Great  Seal  would  not  fill 
me  with  so  much  pleasure,  as  the  sight  of  a  box  of  copies 
of  letters  and  documents,  which  would  give  me  the 
hopes  that  my  dream  was  likely  to  be  accomplished.  At 


1806.]  EIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  317 

any  rate  you  will,  I  hope,  forgive  it,  as  well  as  the 
length  into  which  I  have  suffered  this  letter  to  grow. 
A  pardon  under  your  own  hand  would  certainly  be  the 
most  satisfactory. 

"  Lady  M.  and  I  both  beg  you  to  receive  our  most 
warm  and  respectful  good  wishes;  and  I  have  the  honour 
to  be, 

"Dear  Sir, 
a  Your  most  obliged,  faithful  servant, 

"JAMES  MACKINTOSH. 


"  P.  S.  Dr.  Lawrence  once  offered  to  give  a  place  in 
his  publication  to  any  remarks  which  I  might  send.  I 
own  I  am  very  desirous  of  adding  something,  but  not 
till  I  have  seen  the  correspondence  and  life.  I  could  not 
retard  him  six  months ;  and,  if  he  thought  my  supple- 
ment unfit  for  his  purpose,  he  might  at  last  leave  me  to 
separate  publication." 

The  present  year  was  distinguished  in  Sir  James's  judi- 
cial career  by  the  receipt  of  a  commission  as  Judge  of  a 
Court  of  Vice-Admiralty,  then  for  the  first  time  insti- 
tuted at  Bombay,  for  the  trial  and  adjudication  of  all 
prize  and  maritime  cases.  This  court  had  been  opened 
on  the  21st  of  July.  It  was  a  situation,  for  which  his 
previous  studies  on  the  Law  of  Nations  peculiarly 
qualified  him.  In  one  only  of  the  numerous  cases 
which  he  decided  did  his  judgment  give  rise  to  any 
doubt. 

It  was  that  of  the  "  Minerva,"  an  American  ship, 
taken  in  a  voyage  from  Providence,  in  the  course  of 
which  she  had  touched  at  the  Isle  of  France,  from  which 
place  she  sailed  to  Tegall  and  Manilla,  and  on  her 

27* 


318  LIFE    OF   THE  [1806. 

voyage  back  from  this  last  place  to  Batavia,  she  was 
detained  as  trading  between  enemies'  ports,  in  violation 
of  his  Majesty's  <  Instructions '  of  June,  1803.  Restitution 
was  insisted  on  by  the  claimants,  on  the  ground  that 
neither  Manilla  nor  Batavia,  nor  the  Isle  of  France,  were 
enemies'  colonies  in  such  a  sense,  as  to  render  the  trading 
thereto  by  a  neutral,  in  time  of  war,  illegal ;  inasmuch 
as  the  trade  to  these  places  was  open  to  foreigners  in 
time  of  peace.  For  the  purpose  of  ascertaining  this 
last  point,  commissions  had  been  sent  to  Calcutta  and 
Madras ;  and  the  judge,  finding  that  the  trade  had  been, 
as  alleged,  open  to  foreigners,  pronounced  for  restitu- 
tion, but  without  costs. 

In  pronouncing  judgment  he  observed,  "that  the  sole 
point  in  the  case  was,  whether  Manilla  and  Batavia  were 
colonies,  according  to  the  true  meaning  of  his  Majesty's 
( Instructions '  of  1803  ;  or,  in  other  words,  whether  they 
were  settlements  administered,  in  time  of  peace,  on 
principles  of  colonial  monopoly.  The  word  '  Colony ' 
was  here  not  a  geographical,  but  a  political  term.  '  His 
Majesty's  Instructions '  must  be  construed  so  as  not  to  be 
at  variance  with  the  principle  of  Public  Law,  maintained 
by  Great  Britain,  called  the  Rule  of  1756.  No  settle- 
ment could  be  called  a  colony  under  that  rule,  which 
was  open  to  foreigners  in  time  of  peace.  As,  from  the 
return  to  the  commissions,  it  appeared  that  Batavia  and 
Manilla  were  not  such  colonies,  he  did  not  therefore 
conceive  that  trading  to  them  was  illegal  under  the 
Law  of  Nations,  as  relaxed  by  His  Majesty's ' Instructions' 
of  1803. 

"  Something  had  been  said  of  the  obedience  due  to  the 
letter  of  these  '  Instructions.'  Undoubtedly  the  letter  of 
the '  Instructions'  was  a  sufficient  warrant  for  His  Majesty's 
officers  for  detaining  ships,  which  appeared  to  offend 


1806.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  319 

against  it; — but,  as  to  the  doctrine  that  courts  of  prize 
were  bound  by  illegal  instructions,  he  had  already,  in 
a  former  case  (that  of  the  'Erin'),  treated  it  as  a 
groundless  charge  by  an  American  writer  against  Eng- 
lish courts.  In  this  case  (which  had  hitherto  been,  and, 
he  trusted,  ever  would  continue  imaginary),  of  such 
illegal  instructions,  he  was  convinced  that  English  Courts 
of  Admiralty  would  as  much  assert  their  independence 
of  arbitrary  mandates,  as  English  Courts  of  Common 
Law.  That  happily  no  judge  had  ever  been  called 
upon  to  determine,  and  no  writer  had  distinctly  put  the 
case  of,  such  a  repugnance.  He  had,  therefore,  no 
direct  and  positive  authority;  but  he  never  could  hesitate 
in  asserting,  that,  in  such  an  imaginary  case,  it  would 
be  the  duty  of  a  judge  to  disregard  the  '  Instructions,' 
and  to  consult  only  that  universal  law,  to  which  all 
civilised  princes  and  states  acknowledge  themselves  to 
be  subject,  and  over  which  none  of  them  can  claim  any 
authority." 

Though  this  doctrine  is  apparently  the  only  one  upon 
which  Prize  Courts  can  be  considered  as  courts  of  the 
Law  of  Nations,  yet,  (perhaps  in  consequence  of  some 
imperfect  reports  of  the  case,  published  at  the  time,)  it 
excited  great  murmurs  among  several  naval  officers  of 
rank,  serving  in  the  Indian  Seas,  who  had  been  accus- 
tomed to  consider  the  letter  of  "  His  Majesty's  Instruc- 
tions "  as  the  only  rule  of  adjudication  in  all  cases  :  and 
a  good  deal  was  written  on  the  subject  in  the  Indian  and 
English  newspapers.  The  truth  is,  that  the  judgment 
was  in  no  degree  at  variance  with  the  "Instructions," 
and  that  the  concluding  observations  were  evidently 
introduced  by  the  judge,  merely  in  his  zeal  to  repel  an 
attack  made  by  the  American  jurists  on  the  English 
Prize  Courts,  and  to  justify  to  neutrals  the  independ- 


320  LIFE   OF   THE  [1806. 

ence  of  these  courts  of  international  law.  It  does  not 
appear  that  the  doctrine  was  ever  denied  by  any  com- 
petent judge.  The  decision  itself  was  acquiesced  in  by 
all  parties;  there  being  no  appeal,  which  seldom  happens 
in  prize  causes,  where  there  is  the  least  shadow  of 
doubt. 


1807.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  321 


CHAPTER  VII. 

JOURNAL  —  DEATH  AND  CHARACTER  OF  MR.  FOX  —  LETTERS  TO  DB.  PARR  — 
TO  MR.  MOORE  —  TO  MR.  SHARP  —  TO  MR.  MALCOLM  LAING — NOTICE  OF 
PRIESTLEY — OF  MIRABEAU —  VISIT  TO  GOA  AND  MADRAS. 

JOURNAL. 

"  JANUARY  1st.  —  The  distribution  of  time  into  years, 
naturally  disposes  one  to  fancy  that  a  new  year,  or  a  new 
combination  of  ciphers,  denotes  some  new  reality  in 
nature.  The  conclusion  of  a  year  seems  a  sort  of  pause 
in  the  progress  of  time,  which  disposes  the  mind  to 
retrospection.  The  year  1806  is  almost  a  blank  in  this 
diary ;  so  it  almost  was  in  fact.  It  was  very  barren  in 
enjoyment  and  improvement.  I  begin  the  year  1807  with 
a  firm  resolution  (I  hope  it  may  prove  unshaken)  to  be 
more  industrious. 

"  My  last  readings  were  '  Jacobi  on  the  Doctrine  of 
Spinoza,'  and  his  letter  to  Fichte  on  German  Philosophy, 
and  '  Good's  Translation  of  Lucretius.' 

"  Jacobi  is  a  singular  example  of  the  union  of  meta- 
physical acuteness  with  mysticism.  Like  Hecla,  burning 
in  Iceland,  his  moral  and  devotional  enthusiasm  resists 
the  freezing  power  of  abstraction.  His  book  on  Spinoza 
is  most  ingenious;  and  when  I  read  him,  I  think  I  under- 
stand his  results ;  but  when  I  lay  down  the  book  they 
escape  the  grasp  of  my  mind. 

"  It  seems  to  me  that,  according  to  Spinoza,  extension 
and  thought  are  the  two  ultimate  facts  of  the  universe, 
absolutely  independent  of  each  other;  nothing  is  common 
to  them  but  substance ;  which,  divested  of  all  attributes, 
must  be  the  same  in  all  things ;  which  Spinoza,  probably 


322  LIFE   OF   THE  [1807. 

to  avoid  the  imputation  of  Atheism,  called  God ;  and 
which,  being  synonymous  with  existence,  seems  to  be  a 
mere  logical  form  of  words,  necessary  in  affirmative  pro- 
positions. The  use  of  the  word  Deus  has  thrown  great 
obscurity  over  Spinoza's  system;  and  it  has  given  plausi- 
bility to  the  popular  arguments  of  Bayle. 

a  15th.  —  I  have  just  heard  of  the  death  of  Mr.  Fox. 
It  is  now  about  fifteen  years  since  I  was  introduced  to 
him  by  Mr.  Ogilvie,  the  husband  of  his  aunt,  the  Duchess 
of  Leinster.  It  was  in  his  house  in  South  Street,  and,  I 
think,  in  June,  1791. 

"  He  was,  before  his  death,  led  by  misrepresentations 
to  wrong  me.  But  I  feel  unfeigned  regret  for  his  death ; 
and  I  have  the  firmest  confidence,  that  if  he  had  lived  he 
would  have  done  me  justice. 

"  Mr.  Fox  united,  in  a  most  remarkable  degree,  the 
seemingly  repugnant  characters  of  the  mildest  of  men, 
and  the  most  vehement  of  orators.  In  private  life  he 
was  gentle,  modest,  placable,  kind,  of  simple  manners, 
and  so  averse  from  parade  and  dogmatism,  as  to  be  not 
only  unostentatious,  but  even  somewhat  inactive  in  con- 
versation. His  superiority  was  never  felt,  but  in  the 
instruction  which  he  imparted,  or  in  the  attention  which 
his  generous  preference  usually  directed  to  the  more 
obscure  members  of  the  company.  The  simplicity  of 
his  manners  was  far  from  excluding  that  perfect  urbanity 
and  amenity  which  flowed  still  more  from  the  mildness 
of  his  nature,  than  from  familiar  intercourse  with  the 
most  polished  society  of  Europe.  His  conversation,  when 
it  was  not  repressed  by  modesty  or  indolence,  was  delight- 
ful. The  pleasantry,  perhaps,  of  no  man  of  wit,  had  so 
unlaboured  an  appearance.  It  seemed  rather  to  escape 
from  his  mind  than  to  be  produced  by  it.  He  had  lived 
on  the  most  intimate  terms  with  all  contemporaries  distin- 
guished by  wit,  politeness,  philosophy,  learning,  or  the 


1807.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  323 

talents  of  public  life.  In  the  course  of  thirty  years  he 
had  known  almost  every  man  in  Europe,  whose  inter- 
course could  strengthen,  or  enrich,  or  polish  the  mind. 
His  own  literature  was  various  and  elegant.  In  classical 
erudition,  which,  by  the  custom  of  England,  is  more 
peculiarly  called  learning,  he  was  inferior  to  few  pro- 
fessed scholars.  Like  all  men  of  genius,  he  delighted  to 
take  refuge  in  poetry,  from  the  vulgarity  and  irritation 
of  business.  His  verses  were  easy  and  pleasing,  and 
might  have  claimed  no  low  place  among  those  which  the 
French  call  vers  de  societe.  The  poetical  character  of 
his  mind  was  displayed  in  his  extraordinary  partiality  for 
the  poetry  of  the  two  most  poetical  nations,  or  at  least 
languages  of  the  West,  those  of  the  ancient  Greeks,  and 
of  the  modern  Italians.  He  disliked  political  conver- 
sation, and  never  willingly  took  any  part  in  it. 

"To  speak  of  him  justly,  as  an  orator,  would  require 
a  long  essay.  Every  where  natural,  he  carried  into  public 
something  of  that  simple  and  negligent  exterior,  which 
belonged  to  him  in  private.  When  he  began  to  speak, 
a  common  observer  might  have  thought  him  awkward  ; 
and  even  a  consummate  judge  could  only  have  been 
struck  with  the  exquisite  justness  of  his  ideas,  and  the 
transparent  simplicity  of  his  language.  But  no  sooner 
had  he  spoken  for  some  time,  than  he  was  changed  into 
another  being.  He  forgot  himself  and  every  thing  around 
him.  He  thought  only  of  his  subject.  His  genius 
warmed  and  kindled  as  he  went  on.  He  darted  fire  into 
his  audience.  Torrents  of  impetuous  and  irresistible 
eloquence  swept  along  their  feelings  and  conviction. 
He  certainly  possessed,  above  all  moderns,  that  union 
of  reason,  simplicity,  and  vehemence,  which  formed  the 
prince  of  orators.  He  was  the  most  Demosthenean 
speaker  since  Demosthenes.  'I  knew  him,'  says  Mr. 
Burke,  in  a  pamphlet,  written  after  their  unhappy  differ- 


324  LIFE   OF   THE  [1807. 

ence,  'when  he  was  nineteen;  since  which  time  he  has 
risen,  by  slow  degrees,  to  be  the  most  brilliant  and  accom- 
plished debater  that  the  world  ever  saw.' 

"  The  quiet  dignity  of  a  mind  roused  only  by  great 
objects,  the  absence  of  petty  bustle,  the  contempt  of  show, 
the  abhorrence  of  intrigue,  the  plainness  and  downright- 
ness,  and  the  thorough  good-nature  which  distinguished 
Mr.  Fox,  seem  to  render  him  no  very  unfit  representative 
of  that  old  English  national  character,  which,  if  it  ever 
changed,  we  should  be  sanguine,  indeed,  to  expect  to  be 
succeeded  by  a  better.  The  simplicity  of  his  character 
inspired  confidence ;  the  ardour  of  his  eloquence  roused 
enthusiasm ;  and  the  gentleness  of  his  manners  invited 
friendship.  '  I  admired,'  says  Mr.  Gibbon, '  the  powers  of 
a  superior  man,  as  they  were  blended  in  his  attractive 
character  with  all  the  softness  and  simplicity  of  a  child. 
No  human  being  was  ever  more  free  from  any  taint  of 
malignity,  vanity,  or  falsehood.'  From  these  qualities 
of  his  public  and  private  character,  it  probably  arose, 
that  no  English  statesman  ever  preserved,  during  so  long 
a  period  of  adverse  fortune,  so  many  affectionate  friends, 
and  so  many  zealous  adherents.  The  union  of  ardour 
in  public  sentiment  with  mildness  in  social  manners, 
was,  in  Mr.  Fox,  an  inherent  quality.  The  same  fasci- 
nating power  over  the  attachment  of  all  who  came  within 
his  sphere,  is  said  to  have  belonged  to  his  father;  and  those 
who  know  the  survivors  of  another  generation,  will  feel 
that  this  delightful  quality  is  not  yet  extinct  in  the  race. 

"  Perhaps  nothing  can  more  strongly  prove  the  deep 
impression  made  by  this  part  of  Mr.  Fox's  character,  than 
the  words  of  Mr.  Burke,  who,  in  January,  1797,  six 
years  after  all  intercourse  between  them  had  ceased, 
speaking  to  a  person*  honoured  with  some  degree  of 

*  The  writer  himself. 


1807.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  325 

Mr.  Fox's  friendship,  said,  'To  be  sure;  he  is  a  man 
made  to  be  loved!'  and  these  emphatical  words  were 
uttered  with  a  fervour  of  manner  which  left  no  doubt  of 
their  heartfelt  sincerity. 

"  These  few  hasty  and  honest  sentences  are  sketched 
in  a  temper  too  sober  and  serious  for  intentional  exag- 
geration, and  with  too  pious  an  affection  for  the  memory 
of  Mr.  Fox,  to  profane  it  by  intermixture  with  the 
factious  brawls  and  wrangles  of  the  day.  His  political 
conduct  belongs  to  history.  The  measures  which  he  sup- 
ported or  opposed  may  divide  the  opinions  of  posterity, 
as  they  have  divided  those  of  the  present  age ;  but  he 
will  most  certainly  command  the  unanimous  reverence  of 
future  generations,  by  his  pure  sentiments  towards  the 
commonwealth,  by  his  zeal  for  the  civil  and  religious 
rights  of  all  men,  by  his  liberal  principles  favourable  to 
mild  government,  to  the  unfettered  exercise  of  the  human 
faculties  and  to  the  progressive  civilization  of  mankind ; 
by  his  ardent  love  for  a  country,  of  which  the  well-being 
and  greatness  were  indeed  inseparable  from  his  own  glory; 
and  by  his  profound  reverence  for  that  free  constitution 
which  he  was  universally  admitted  to  understand  better 
than  any  other  man  of  his  age,  both  in  an  exactly  legal, 
and  in  a  comprehensively  philosophical  sense."  * 

The  death  of  Mr.  Fox,  under  the  circumstances  of 
alienated  regard,  to  which  he  has  alluded,  was  an  event 
that  affected  Sir  James  powerfully.  Upon  its  being  com- 
municated to  him,  he  could  not  refrain  from  tears. 
Shortly  before  the  news  reached  him  he  had  thus  ex- 
pressed himself:  —  "If  Mr.  Fox  lives f  (which,  God 


*  The  above  character  of  Mr.  Fox  was  printed  in  the  Bombay 
Courier  of  the  17th. 

t  Mr.  Fox  had  expired  on  the  13th  of  September  preceding. 
VOL.  L  28 


326  LIFE   OF   THE  [1807. 

grant),  and  if  I  live,  I  cannot  but  be  persuaded  that 
he  will  acknowledge  that  he  has  been  deceived  by  my 
enemies.  I  frankly  acknowledge,  that  there  are  few 
things  on  earth  which  I  desire  so  much,  as  to  ensure  and 
accelerate  that  acknowledgment." 

This  was  now  for  ever  prevented,  and  by  the  only 
event  by  which  it  was  possible ;  for  time  only  was 
wanting  to  ascertain  what  was  palpable  in  the  mis- 
representations by  which  Mr.  Fox's  generous  nature 
had  been  acted  upon,  to  demonstrate  to  him  their  utter 
falsity.  Take,  for  instance,  the  attempt  to  delude  him 
into  the  belief  that  some  personal  attacks  on  him,  in  a 
public  print,  were  connived  at  by  one  who  had  professed 
personal,  as  well  as  political,  adherence.  The  following 
is  Sir  James's  answer  to  the  accusation,  when  made 
known  to  him : — "It  is  false.  I  had  no  communica- 
tion, direct  or  indirect,  with  Coleridge,  at  any  time, 
on  these  letters,*  or  for  a  year  (I  think)  before,  on  any 
subject.  Coleridge  is  well  known  to  have  (capriciously 
enough)  disliked  me.  He  is  also  known  to  be  a  man 
not  well  disposed  to  receive  suggestions,  or  materials, 
from  any  one.  I  had  no  controul  over  the  editor  of  the 
paper,  which  could  have  prevented  the  publication  of 
letters,  in  which  I  was  myself)  by  very  clear  implication, 
abused.  In  short,  I  mean  to  say,  that  if  any  form  could 
be  devised,  more  comprehensive,  and  more  precise,  of 
disclaiming  all  connexion  with  these  letters,  by  sugges- 
tion before  publication,  or  by  approbation  after,  or  by 
any  other  mode  which  the  English  word  connexion  may 
comprehend, — I  should  employ  such  more  comprehen- 
sive and  precise  form  of  words.  There  are  half-a-dozen 


*  Published  in  the  Morning  Post,   under  the  signature  comae 
(S.  T.  C.). 


1807.]  RIGHT   HON.   SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  327 

persons  now  alive,  who  know  that  I  was  no  more  con- 
nected with  them  than  with  the  letters  of  Junius ;  and 
if  admiration  be  a  kind  of  connexion,  rather  less." 

Such  like  insinuations,  wretched  as  they  were,  were  too 
long  saved  from  the  contempt  which  was  their  due,  as 
the  promiscuous  weapons  of  political  jealousy,  by  the  fatal 
success  with  which  they  had,  or  rather  with  which  he 
supposed  they  had,  been  wielded.  Their  effect  indeed  he 
had,  in  point  of  fact,  much  over-rated,  as  he  afterwards 
had  the  comfort  of  being  satisfied  upon  competent  autho- 
rity ;  though,  perhaps,  any  other  assurance  was  needless 
to  one  who  was,  during  the  remainder  of  their  joint  lives, 
honoured  with  the  cordial  friendship  of  the  present 
noble  representative  of  Mr.  Fox's  principles  and  blood. 
But  at  the  time  of  which  we  speak,  the  thought  of  what 
had  passed,  when  occurring  in  the  indulgence  of  an 
almost  morbid  sensibility,  on  this  subject,  cast  a  percep- 
tible shadow  across  the  usual  sunny  cheerfulness  of  his 
nature. 

Connected  with  the  above  incident  is  the  following 
letter  which  exemplifies  in  Sir  James's  own  mind,  those 
qualities  from  which  he  had  formed  such  kindly  expecta- 
tions in  Mr.  Fox's.  It  would  jar  discordantly  with  the 
tenor  of  the  character,  which  we  are  here  attempting  to 
delineate,  to  introduce  unnecessarily  any  topic  of  personal 
animosity ;  a  duty  from  which  the  editor  is  relieved,  by 
the  pleasing  contemplation  of  the  subsequent  renewal  of 
an  interrupted  friendship.* 

*  We  anticipate  a  little,  in  point  of  time,  to  do  justice  to  that  manly 
frankness  (compensating  so  amply  for  the  almost  infantile  credulity  of 
Dr.  Parr's  character)  which  prompted,  in  the  present  instance,  the 
becoming  reparation  due  to  his  friend,  whose  "  honour "  he  pronounced 
to  be  "clear  from  every  kind  of  objection  whatsoever;" — adding, 
"  consequently,  in  the  most  express  terms,  I  lamented  as  a  friend,  and 
retracted  as  an  honest  man,  any  language  of  a  different  tendency,  which 


328  LIFE   OF   THE  [1807. 

It  is  only  adverted  to,  therefore,  to  observe  that,  in 
what  follows,  Sir  James  was  aware  that  he  was  replying, 
for  the  first  time  after  Mr.  Fox's  death,  to  one  who  had 
heedlessly  allowed  distrustful  impressions  to  be  insinuated 
into  his  mind,  of  which,  indeed,  Mr.  Fox's  opinion  was 
supposed  to  be  the  only  reflection.  Dr.  Parr  had  broken 
a  silence  of  some  duration  in  a  letter,  which  he  begins 
by  an  assurance  of  the  "real  and  great  satisfaction"  in 
writing  again.  After  a  proposal  to  bury  the  past  in 
oblivion,  in  which  he  speaks  of  his  own  placability,  and 
of  seriously  and  sincerely  setting  his  seal  to  their  recon- 
ciliation, he  proceeds  to  those  literary  topics  which  had 
formerly  interested  them  in  common.  The  answer  may 
be  anticipated. 

imperfect  information  alone  had  led  me  to  use."  It  may  be  interesting 
to  mention,  that  the  occasion  on  which  the  intimacy  was  renewed,  was 
offered  by  an  acceptance  of  the  following  invitation  from  one,  whose 
"Memory"  is  prodigal  in  such  "Pleasures." 

"  He  best  can  paint  them,  who  can  feel  them  most." 

"  DEAR  MACKINTOSH, — Dr.  Parr  dines  with  me  on  Thursday,  the 
3rd  of  August,  and  he  wishes  to  meet  some  of  his  old  friends  under  my 
roof,  as  it  may  be  for  the  last  time.  He  has  named  Whishaw,  and  Sharp, 
and  Lord  Holland ;  and  he  says,  '  I  want  to  shake  hands  with  Jemmy 
Mackintosh  before  I  die.' 

"  May  I  ask  you  to  be  of  the  party  ?  That  you  can  forgive,  I  know 
full  well.  That  you  will  forgive  in  this  instance — much  as  you  have  to 
forgive — I  hope  fervently. 

"  Some  of  the  pleasantest  moments  of  my  life  have  been  spent  in  the 
humble  office  I  am  now  venturing  to  take  upon  myself,  and  I  am  sure 
you  will  not  take  it  amiss,  if,  on  this  occasion,  I  wish  to  add  to  the 
number. 

"  Yours  very  truly, 

"SAMUEL    ROGERS. 

"July  23rd,  1820." 


1807.]  RIGHT   HON.   SIR  JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  329 


TO   THE   REV.   DR.    PARR. 

"  Bombay,  2Sth  July,  1807. 

"DEAR  SIR, — I  have  received  both  your  letters  of  the 
4th  of  January ;  and  before  I  am  silenced  for  ever  on  the 
extraordinary  scenes  which  have  passed,  you  will  allow  me 
to  make  a  few  moderate  and  grave  observations  on  the 
conditions  of  reconcilement  which  you  propose,  and  from 
which  I  shall  not  dissent. 

"  The  conditions  did  certainly,  at  first,  appear  rather 
extraordinary  to  me.  I  neither  expected  a  profession 
of  placability,  an  offer  of  pardon,  nor  an  injunction  of 
oblivion.  I  am  too  little  a  wit,  and  too  much  of  an 
eager  and  downright  disputant,  to  deal  in  an  indirect  or 
allusive  style.  The  little  that  I  have  to  say  must  be 
frankly  said.  To  be  plain,  then,  I  conceived  myself  to 
have  been  very  deeply  offended ;  as  such  I  always  repre- 
sented myself.  All  that  I  had  written  to  England  had 
been  as  a  man  not  suing  for  grace,  but  demanding  justice. 
In  that  character,  though  with  all  the  humility  of  deep 
reverence  and  inviolable  attachment,  I  wrote  to  the  illus- 
trious man  who  has  left  the  world  without  restoring  me 
to  the  place  in  his  good  opinion,  of  which  I  was  deprived 
by  enemies,  who  have  never  avowed  themselves.  If  I  had 
needed  his  placability,  I  should  indeed  have  relied  on 
it ;  but,  in  this  case,  I  appealed  only  to  his  justice.  My 
address  was  too  late ; — his  death  has  rendered  irreparable 
the  injury  inflicted  on  me  by  unavowed  enemies.  In  the 
solitary  tears  which  that  death  drew  from  me,  I  thought 
only  of  the  loss  of  the  greatest  and  most  amiable  man  of 
his  age.  I  did  not  stoop  so  low  as  to  a  thought  of  myself, 
or  of  my  wrongs.  And  now  that  I  can  calmly  review 
the  subject,  I  can  most  conscientiously  declare,  that  I  feel, 

28* 


330  LIFE    OF   THE  [1807. 

as  not  the  least  abatement  of  my  affectionate  reverence 
for  his  memory,  that  he  was  led  into  a  great  error  con- 
cerning the  sentiments  and  conduct  of  an  obscure  indi- 
vidual, especially  as  you  must  allow  me  to  be  convinced, 
that  if  he  had  lived,  he  would  have  been  undeceived. 
Mr.  Fox  would  at  least  have  acknowledged,  that  there 
was  nothing,  or  very  little,  in  me  to  be  pardoned ;  and,  as 
he  was  the  last  man  to  avail  himself  of  any  superiority  but 
that  of  right,  he  would  not  have  thought  it  arrogant,  if  I 
had  so  far  deviated  from  my  usual  manners,  as  to  say  that 
I  had  something  to  pardon. 

"  I  am  always  thankful  for  an  occasion  of  throwing  off 
a  character  so  difficult  for  me  to  sustain,  as  that  of  anger. 
I  never  have  dissented  from  an  amnesty,  where  I  thought 
myself  the  party  entitled  to  grant  it ;  and  I  hope  I  never 
shall  refuse,  as  I  believe  I  never  have  refused,  an  oblivion 
of  wrong  done  to  me,  when  those  who  have  wronged  me, 
either  by  words  or  actions,  have  made  my  consent  to  it 
possible,  with  security  to  my  own  character.  To  your 
proposal  of  reconciliation  and  renewed  intercourse,  I 
therefore  unreservedly  and  willingly  assent.  I  cheerfully 
bury  all  past  differences  in  oblivion,  contented  with 
observing,  that  you  never  would  have  made  such  a  pro- 
posal to  any  man  whom  you  did  not  know  and  acknow- 
ledge to  have  acted  with  honour,  and  protesting  once 
for  all,  that  I  have  no  interest  in  avoiding  the  most 
rigorous  scrutiny  into  every  part  of  my  conduct  towards 
Mr.  Fox,  whose  memory  I  shall  ever  honour  and  vindi- 
cate, and  to  whom  I  was  attached,  during  his  life,  with 
an  ardour  and  constancy,  which  I  will  presume  to  say 
merited  a  different  return.  How  his  death  affected  me 
when  I  heard  of  it,  I  very  hastily  and  imperfectly  made 
known. 


1807.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  331 

"  I  now  bid  an  eternal  farewell  to  all  retrospective 
discussions  of  what  has  occurred  during  those  four  not 
very  happy  years  of  my  life,  which  have  passed  since 
1803.  Deep  wounds  heal  slowly,  and  I  cannot  suddenly 
recover  from  the  effects  of  events,  which  almost  wrought 
a  revolution  in  the  constitution  of  my  nature ;  but  if  the 
future  shall  retain  any  tincture  from  the  past,  it  shall  be 
unintentional. 

"I  shall  endeavour  to  show  those  civilities  to  Mr. 
Macklin,  which  I  dare  say  that  he  himself  will  be  found 
to  deserve,  and  to  which  he  is  so  much  entitled  from  me, 
on  account  of  my  excellent  friend  Montagu.  I  am  sorry 
to  say,  that  his  immediate  chances  here  are  not  equal 
to  his  expectation,  nor,  I  dare  say,  to  his  deserts.  My 
situation  obliges  me  to  appear,  as  well  as  to  be,  impartial, 
in  the  contests  of  advocates  for  business.  My  situation 
here  is  one,  in  which  every  thing  without  the  walls  of  my 
own  house  is  and  has  been  uncomfortable.  It  is  one  in 
which,  by  the  mere  execution  of  justice,  even  with  a 
perhaps  culpable  lenity,  I  have  incurred  a  very  general 
hostility.  Lady  Mackintosh's  powerful  understanding, 
however,  leaves  me  in  no  mental  solitude :  and  I  had 
^the  good  fortune  to  bring  out  with  me  a  young  Scotch 
gentleman,  Mr.  Erskine,  who  is  one  of  the  most 
amiable,  ingenious,  and  accurately-informed  men  in  the 
world. 

"  I  can  yet  give  no  good  account  of  my  studies.  All 
my  works  remain  in  project.  I  am  ashamed  of  con- 
tinuing to  speak  of  them.  But  I  have  not  relinquished 
the  hope  of  better  times.  Till  I  make  some  progress,  I 
shall,  out  of  decency,  be  silent.  I  am  glad  to  find  that 
you  are  publishing  a  collection  of  metaphysical  tracts  and 
sermons.  It  would  most  naturally  lead  to  a  work  which 
I  proposed  to  you  long  ago — the  History  of  Moral,  and, 


332  LIFE    OF   THE  [1807. 

if  you  please,  Political  Speculation,  in  England,  either 
from  the  most  ancient  times,  or  from  the  Eeformation. 
There  is,  in  truth,  more  apparent  than  real  difference 
between  the  difficulty  of  the  more  extensive,  and  that  of 
the  more  limited  plan.  That  difference  consists  only  in 
the  schoolmen.  Joannes  Duns  Scotus  is,  on  all  suppo- 
sitions, a  native  of  the  British  Islands;  and,  as  such, 
admissible  into  your  plan.  In  Wadding's  Preface  to  his 
Works,  I  think  there  is  a  slight  preponderance  of  proba- 
bility in  favour  of  his  being  an  Irishman.  It  is  rather  a 
reproach,  that  we  have  left  in  such  darkness  the  biography 
of  a  man  so  famous  in  the  history  of  philosophy.  This 
is  still  more  true  of  William  of  Ockham,  an  undoubted 
Englishman,  one  of  the  most  memorable  men  of  the 
middle  ages,  the  founder  of  the  Nominalists,  and  one  of 
the  enemies  of  the  higher  pretensions  of  the  Roman  See,  * 
but  whose  works  are  yet,  I  believe,  uncollected,  and  the 
events  of  whose  life  are  totally  unknown.  The  names 
of  these  most  extraordinary  persons  are,  I  think,  even 

*  "  William  Ockham  was  born  in  this  county  (Surrey),  in  a  village 
so  called  of  Oakes  ;  and  indeed  our  William  was  all  Heart  of  Oake,  as 
soon  will  appear.  He  was  first  bred  under  John  Scotus,  and  afterwards 
served  him  as  Aristotle  did  his  master  Plato,  disproving  his  principles, 
and  first  setting  on  foot  a  new  sort  of  sophistry.  Then  it  was  hard  to 
hear  any  thing  in  the  schooles  for  the  high  railing  betwixt  the 


HEALS, 


headed  by  John  Duns  Scotus  ; 


NOMINALS, 

fighting  under  their  general,  Ockham  ; 


neither  of  them  conducing  much  to  the  advance  of  religion. 

"  Our  Ockham,  flushed  with,  success  against  John  Scotus,  undertook 
another  John  of  higher  power  and  place — even  Pope  John  the  three- 
and-twentieth,  and  gave  a  mortal  wound  to  his  temporal  power  over 
princes" — Fuller's  Worthies, vol.  ii.  p.  362. 

Fuller  assigns  the  village  of  Dunston,  in  Northumberland,  as  the 
birth-place  of  Duns  Scotus,  "  as  appeareth  by  a  writing  in  a  book  of  his 
in  Merton  College,  wherein  he  was  bred." 


1807.]  RIGHT  HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  333 

excluded  from  the  '  Biographia  Britannica,'  which  dwells 
so  long  on  Koger  Bacon,  a  man  of  great  merit  to  be  sure, 
but  whose  genius  had  much  less  power  over  the  opinions 
of  mankind  for  centuries,  and  who  can  deserve  exclusive 
preference  on  no  better  ground  than  that  of  two  wretched 
prejudices,  prevalent  enough  about  the  middle  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  that  those  fashions  of  philosophising 
which  had  passed  away,  deserved  no  record,  and  that 
physical  alone  was  philosophy. 

"  At  a  later  period,  we  wish  to  know  more  of  two  men, 
one  of  whom  has  left  a  great  name,  and  the  other  had  a 
great,  though  mysterious,  reputation  in  his  own  age ; — I 
mean  Sir  Kenelm  Digby,  and  the  person  who  is  some- 
times called  Thomas  Anglus,  and  who,  I  think,  styles 
himself  Thomas- Albus-East-Saxonum ;  by  which,  I  sup- 
pose, he  means  Thomas  White  from  Essex.  He  flourished 
during  the  usurpation — was  a  Roman  Catholic  monk — 
suspected  of  heresy — and  lived  chiefly  on  the  continent. 
All  his  most  rare  works,  as  well  as  those  of  William  of 
Ockham,  are,  I  presume,  to  be  found  in  the  Bodleian, 
or  in  the  libraries  of  some  of  the  colleges  at  Oxford  or 
Cambridge.  We  are  disgracefully  negligent  of  our  phi- 
losophical history.  For  this  branch  of  it  you  are  better 
fitted  than  any  other  man  living ;  and  it  would  be  more 
amusement  than  exertion  for  you  to  write  such  a  book 
as  that  of  which  I  have  spoken. 

"  Who  was  Johannes  Santacrucius  Nordovicensis,  who 
published  a  Scholastic  Logic  at  London,  1672 ;  or  the 
anonymous  author  of  a  Logic,  ( ad  mentem  Gulielmi 
Ockham,'  published  at  Oxford  about  the  same  time  ?  I 
would  give  something  for  both  or  either.  You  know 
Norris,  the  English  disciple  of  Malbranche.  He  appears 
to  have  been  a  neighbour  of  Collier's — both  Wiltshire 
parsons ;  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  the  peculiar  opinions 


334  LIFE   OF   THE  [1807. 

of  the  latter  may  be  traced  to  the  influence  of  this 
neighbourhood. 


"All  these  are  hints,  probably  unnecessary.  To 
Hutcheson  the  taste  for  speculation  in  Scotland,  and  all 
the  philosophical  opinions  (except  the  Berkleian  Humism), 
may  be  traced — Hume's  Reference  of  Morals  to  Senti- 
ments, Lord  Kaimes'  Instincts,  Adam  Smith's  Sympathy, 
and  Reid's  Common  Sense. 

K  My  family  are,  thank  God,  all  very  well. 

"I  shall  be  glad  to  receive  your  publications  and  letters, 
and  I  hope  that  I  shall  always  be  able  sincerely  to  sub- 
scribe myself, 

"  Your  well-wisher  and  faithful  friend, 

"JAMES  MACKINTOSH." 

The  early  part  of  the  present  year  was  marked  by  the 
first  severe  fit  of  illness  to  which  his  constitution  was 
subjected.  This  left  him  little  desire,  or  vigour,  to  proceed 
with  the  execution  of  any  of  his  contemplated  literary 
works,  but  it  does  not  appear  to  have  much  relaxed  the 
frequency  of  his  correspondence. 

TO    GEORGE  MOORE,   ESQ. 

«  Bombay,  March  IGth,  1807. 

"  MY  DEAR  MOORE, — I  wrote  to  you  last  year,  about 
the  time  that  you  were  writing  to  me,  and  I  have  since 
received  both  your  letters  of  January  and  April.  Another 
year  of  terrible,  and  almost  incredible  events,  has  elapsed 
since  the  last  of  them.  You  know  long  ago — but  I  am 
still  ignorant  whether  Buonaparte,  who  has  foiled  all  the 
policy  and  valour  of  Europe,  has  at  last  yielded  to  the 


1807.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  335 

diseases  of  a  winter  campaign  in  Poland.*  Our  minister 
at  Constantinople  has  given  us  some  hopes  of  this ;  but 
past  experience  rather  leads  us,  or  at  least  me,  to  con- 
sider him  as  more  sanguine  and  credulous,  than  becomes 
diplomacy. 

"I  am  equally  uninformed  and  anxious  about  the 
harmony  of  the  administration — the  strength  of  parties 
in  the  new  parliament,-}- — and  many  other  subjects  of  the 
most  critical  importance  in  our  domestic  politics.  My 
judgment  and  attachment  are  with  the  administration. 
For  some  of  them  I  have  the  warmest  personal  affection, 
and  I  am  persuaded  that  their  dissolution,  and  the  union 
of  the  Grenvilles  with  the  remaining  Pittites,  would  be  a 
very  unfortunate  event.  I  have  received  letters  from  the 
Chancellor,  J  full  of  the  warmest  kindness. 

"I  have  lately  been  reading  some  recently-arrived 
French  books,  some  of  which  I  advise  you  to  read,  if  you 
have  not  done  so  already.  The  e  Memoirs  de  Bezenval'  I 
hail  as  the  resurrection  of  old  French  Memoirs,  which  I 
feared  rhetoric  and  metaphysics  had  for  ever  destroyed. 
He  is  rambling,  like  St.  Simon ;  he  is  often  intolerably 
tedious  in  his  military  discussions ;  he  is  often  more 
trifling  than  could  easily  be  conceived :  but  if  he  had  not, 
we  should  not  so  well  have  known  what  sort  of  animal 
a  courtier  of  Versailles,  under  Louis  XVI,  was.  He  is 
more  gross  than  it  is  possible  to  pardon ;  but  this  shows 
us  the  system  of  manners  from  the  Regency  to  Mad.  du 
Barry.  He  writes  about  the  court  like  an  eye-witness ; 
and  from  him  I  have  at  last  such  an  idea  of  Louis  XVI. 

*  The  operations  on  the  Vistula  that  followed  the  battle  of  Jena. 
t  Which  had  assembled  on  the  15th  of  December,  under  the  auspices 
of  the  Whig  Government. 
J  Lord  Erskine. 


336  LIFE   OF   THE  [1807. 

and  his  court,  as  one  has  of  acquaintances ;  not  a  philo- 
sophical analysis,  or  rhetorical  display  of  character,  such 
as  we  find  in  the  best  historians. 

"In  all  our  talking  of  French  books,  I  do  not  remember 
any  mention  of  Mad.  de  la  Fayette.  Perhaps  you  have 
not  read  her  '  Histoire  de  Mad.  Henriette.'  If  not,  order 
it  forthwith  from  Dulau.  I  think  it  charming.  No  in- 
strument, less  delicate  than  a  female  pen,  could  have  dis- 
sected, without  destroying,  all  the  minute  parts  of  the 
intrigues  of  women  in  an  amorous  court.  I  say  amorous, 
because  in  a  licentious  court  like  that  of  Louis  XV.  they 
are  so  gross  as  to  make  the  reprehension  easy.  No  man 
could  have  written  this  history :  it  is  as  exclusively  femi- 
nine as  Mad.  de  Sevigne's  best  Letters.  These  two  are 
the  only  literary  productions  I  have  met  with  which  we 
should  not  praise  by  calling  masculine.  No  English  lady 
has  hit  this  sort  of  writing.  Lady  Mary  Wortley,  Mrs. 
Barbauld,  &c.,  are  very  clever  men. 

"  You,  like  myself,  have,  I  suppose,  been  delighted  by 

Walter  Scott,  and  tired  to  death  by ;  so  much  less 

depends  on  the  subject  than  on  the  writer.  I  hope  you 
have  read  Miss  Edgeworth's  Popular  Tales,  and  that  you 
have  directed  several  copies  of  an  Irish  translation,  made 
under  your  auspices,  to  be  distributed  to  every  cottager 
on  your  estate.  Except  the  four  Gospels,  I  think  there  is 
no  book  of  popular  morality  equal  to  it. 

"  I  am  not  well  pleased  at  your  supineness  in  not 
having  taken  steps  to  send  me  your  '  Lives  of  Ripperda, 
&c.'  more  speedily.  They  have  been  published  near 
twelve  months,  and,  if  you  had  been  diligent,  I  might 
have  had  a  copy  in  October.  To  punish  you  for  this 
laziness  I  will  not  let  you  into  the  secret  of  a  little  essay 
of  mine,  which  will  soon  make  its  appearance,  though, 
perhaps,  anonymously.  Observe  the  effect  of  geography 


1807.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  337 

upon  words:  by  'soon' — I  only  mean  eleven  months 
hence. 

"  Why  are  you  not  in  parliament  ? 

***** 
"  Ever  entirely  yours, 

"J.  MACKINTOSH." 

The  following  letter  contains  some  excellent  remarks 
on  a  topic,  which  at  that  moment  must  have  much  inter- 
ested his  correspondent,  who  had  lately  been  elected, 
and  for  the  first  time,  a  member  of  the  new  parliament. 

TO    RICHARD    SHARP,   ESQ.   M.  P. 

"  Bombay,  1M  March,  1807. 

"Mr  DEAR  SHARP, — Among  the  very  few  agreeable 
occurrences  of  my  present  life,  there  is  none  which  can 
give  me  more  pleasure  than  reading  this  morning  the 
name  of  one  of  the  members  for  Castlerising.  I  was 
sorry  not  to  have  seen  the  names  of  Rogers,  Philips,  and 
Boddington.  In  former  times  I  flattered  myself  that  my 
name  might  also  have  been  joined  in  the  little  phalanx, 
which  would  have  given  aid  and  importance  to  each  other. 
My  lot  is  otherwise  cast,  and  I  can  now  feel  the  enjoy- 
ments of  ambition  only  by  sympathy  with  my  friends. 
You  will  have  been  in  parliament  a  whole  session  before 
you  read  this  letter.  That  session  will  probably  super- 
sede my  exhortations  to  become  a  frequent  speaker.  But 
if  it  should  not,  and  if  you  are  not  so  in  the  first  session, 
let  me  earnestly  exhort  you  to  speak  enough  in  the  second 
for  two  sessions,  and  for  you  and  me. 

"  No  situation  of  the  house  was  ever  more  favourable. 
The  overwhelming  fame  of  Fox  and  Pitt  oppresses  no 
new  speaker.  When  he  rises  he  is  not  haunted  with  the 
idea  of  two  such  terrible  listeners.  You  have,  I  am  sorry 

VOL.  i.  29 


338  LIFE    OF   THE  [1807. 

to  say,  few  men  of  genius  to  be  formidable  rivals.  They 
are  on  your  own  side.  They  have  lost  the  ardour  of 
youth  and  caught  something  of  the  indolence  of  esta- 
blished reputation.  They  are  now  rather  declining  into 
years.  On  the  other  hand,  no  assembly  ever  had  more 
of  those  men  of  sense  and  taste,  who  are  competent 
without  being  fastidious  judges.  If  1  had  to  encounter 
the  terrors  of  a  maiden  speech,  I  scarce  know  any  member 
whom  I  should  be  very  anxious  to  expel,  except  it  be 
Romilly ;  and  I  suppose  you  may  trust  to  his  friendship 
to  balance  his  acuteness  and  severity.  You  have  no 
enemies  but  your  modesty  and  your  taste ;  and  you  have 
no  means  of  vanquishing  them  but  an  inflexible  resolution 
to  speak  early  and  to  speak  often.  If  you  suffer  your 
modesty  to  fasten  you  long  to  the  bench,  it  will  become 
unconquerable.  If  you  require  too  much  excellence  from 
your  early,  or  from  your  daily  exertions,  you  will  be  more 
unjust  to  yourself  than  you  are  capable  of  being  to  another 
man.  Great  excellence  cannot  appear  at  first,  and  it  can 
only  be  occasional. 

"  Eloquence  differs  in  one  very  remarkable  respect  from 
the  other  fine  arts.  The  poet  may  execute  a  thousand 
rude  sketches  in  the  solitude  of  his  study ;  he  may  com- 
mit them  to  the  flames,  and  he  needs  not  appear  before 
the  public  till  he  has  attained  the  perfection  of  his  art. 
His  friends  may  boast. 

1  Nee  licuit  populis  parvum  te,  Nile,  videre.' 

But  it  is  otherwise  with  the  orator.  He  must  expose  his 
first  rude  exercises  to  the  malignant  curiosity  of  the 
public.  It  is  only  by  practice  before  them  that  he  can 
learn  his  art.  Whatever  his  genius  may  be,  it  has  a 
mechanical  part,  which  every  man  but  Pitt  has  acquired 
by  use ;  and  this  is  the  very  part  of  which  nine-tenths  of 
his  hearers  can  best  judge.  He  is  like  the  General,  who 


1807.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  339 

learns  to  fight  by  fighting,  and  whose  only  school  is  real 
war.  This  is  a  reason  for  indulgence  towards  the  first 
attempts  of  the  speaker,  which  applies  neither  to  those  of 
the  poet,  nor  of  the  painter.  As  far  as  I  have  observed, 
a  man  must  be  an  every  day  speaker  to  become  popular. 
It  has  the  air  of  business.  The  eloquent  speeches,  or 
passages  of  such  a  speaker,  seem  to  rise  naturally  on  great 
occasions  from  his  usual  level.  On  the  contrary,  occa- 
sional speakers  are  very  apt  to  be  thought  rhetoricians 
and  haranguers.  When  it  is  otherwise  they  have  more 
weight  than  popularity ;  and  they  generally  require  the 
aid  of  age,  or  station,  or  previous  fame,  or  a  very  peculiar 
character,  which  will  sometimes  supply  the  place  of  all 
the  others.  After  all  this  impertinent  lecture  on  the 
art  of  war  to  Hannibal,  let  me  say  no  more  on  parliamen- 
tary speaking,  except  that,  on  hearing  the  death  of  poor 
Fox,  I  resumed  my  little  essay, '  De  Claris,'  &c.,  which 
was  begun  on  hearing  the  death  of  Pitt,  and  soon  after 
laid  aside.  You  shall  soon  have  it  to  make  what  use 
you  please  of  it.  But  if  you  print  it,  do  so  without  my 
name,  and  after  altering  every  thing  that  you  think  bad, 
if  that  be  not  asking  you  to  rewrite  it. 

"  To  pass  from  my  own  bad  compositions  to  the  good 
ones  of  others,  I  advise  you  to  look  over  the  'Eloges 
Historiques '  of  Vicq  d'Azyr.  They  are  really  very  fine. 
That  of  Buffon  is  a  masterpiece.  It  is  curious  to  com- 
pare, or  rather  contrast  it  with  the  Eloge  of  Buffon,  read 
by  Condorcet  before  the  Academy  of  Sciences.  The  last 
is  more  ingenious  and  refined ;  but  it  is  cold,  from  the 
writer's  character,  and  frozen  by  his  dislike  of  Buffon, 
for  whom  he  inherited  from  D'Alembert  a  contempt  and 
aversion.  In  Vicq  d'Azyr's  Eloge  of  Linnaeus,  it  is  easy 
to  detect  the  countryman  of  Buffon. 

"  You  must  have  read  the  Memoires  de  Bezenval.  I 
hailed  in  them  the  resurrection  of  French  memoirs, 


340  LIFE    OF   THE  [1807. 

which  had,  I  thought,  been  buried  for  ever  under  the 
vast  piles  of  our  declamation  and  metaphysics.  They 
are  slovenly,  very  often  trifling,  and  intolerably  tedious. 
But  the  frivolity  characterises  an  old  courtier ;  and  even 
the  grossness  represents  the  manners  of  Paris,  from  the 
time  of  the  Regent  till  the  full  ripeness  or  rottenness  of 
Madame  du  Barry's  reign.  After  having  read  myself 
blind  about  the  revolution,  I  had  no  pictures  of  poor 
Louis  and  his  court  in  my  fancy  till  I  read  this  old 
intriguer. 

"  There  is  a  singular  book  of  Goethe's  come  out  last 
year,  which  I  would  almost  venture  to  recommend  as 
deserving  a  partial  translation  into  English.  It  is  entitled 
'  Winkelmann,  and  his  Age.'  The  first  part  consists  of 
letters  of  Winkelmann,  which  the  translator  might  omit. 
In  the  sequel  Goethe  gives  a  sort  of  philosophical  sketch 
of  the  history  of  the  arts  in  Rome,  from  Cimabue  to 
Mengs  and  Battoni.  He  endeavours  to  assign  the  causes 
of  the  revolutions  of  art  and  taste ;  and,  to  my  ignorance, 
he  seems  at  least  very  plausible  and  ingenious.  It  is 
true  that  I  am  now  reconciled  to  the  German  manner 
and  style  in  philosophical  writing,  though  not  pleased 
with  it.  No  translation  of  German  philosophy,  either 
into  French  or  English,  will  at  present  succeed,  which  is 
not  in  some  measure  divested  of  that  manner  by  the 
translator's  skill.  A  novel  of  his,  called  '  The  Year  of 
William  Meister's  Apprenticeship,'  published  some  years 
ago,  is  considered  as  one  of  the  masterpieces  of  human 
genius.  I  know  the  antipathy,  not  only  of  French  but  of 
English  taste,  against  German  literature ;  yet  I  cannot 
help  thinking  it  wonderful  that  a  novel  by  the  author  of 
the  '  Sorrows  of  Werter '  should,  for  several  years,  be 
untranslated  and  even  unknown.  Yet  the  '  Sorrows  of 
Werter '  are  part  of  the  library  of  Europe.  It  is  certainly, 
in  rank,  the  first  novel  of  the  school  of  Rousseau. 


1807.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR    JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  341 

"  You  would  scarcely  suppose  that  Voltaire  had  bor- 
rowed or  stolen  from  Tillotson :  but  so  the  truth  seems 
to  be.  Tillotson  says,  'If  God  were  not  a  necessary 
Being,  he  might  almost  seem  to  be  made  for  the  use 
and  benefit  of  men.' 

'  Si  Dieu  n'existait  pas,  il  faudroit  1'inventer.' 

The  passage  of  Tillotson  I  find  quoted  in  Jortin's  Tracts, 
volume  i.  371 ;  and  it  is  odd  enough  that  it  should 
have  probably  originated  in  a  misrecollection  of  some 
words  in  the  2nd  chapter  of  the  1st  book,  De  Natura 
Deorum.* 

"Before  I  conclude  I  know  you  will  wish  to  hear 
something  of  myself.  I  have  recovered  lately  from  the 
first  attack  of  the  diseases  of  this  climate,  which  was  not, 
I  believe,  very  serious,  but  quite  sufficient,  with  the 
remedies,  to  make  me  dislike  the  country  more  than  I 
did  before. 

"  I  wrote  Horner  a  fortnight  ago,  before  I  knew  his 
parliamentary  dignity.  I  am  not  sure  that  I  shall  write 
to  him  by  this  ship.  You  must  congratulate  him  for 
me,  and  tell  him  that  my  advice  to  new  members  is  still 
more  applicable  to  very  young  men. 

"  I  have  already  apprised  you  by  the  '  Experiment,'  of 
the  fate  of  the  Zend,  Pehlavi,  Persian,  Sanscrit,  and 
Pali  MSS.,  which  I  had  collected  and  sent  on  board  the 
'  Grappler '  for  your  city  library.  The  Grappler  was  taken 
by  the  Piedmontaise,  and  the  box  of  MSS.  is  now  at  the 
Isle  of  France,  from  which  I  shall  make  an  effort  to 
release  it,  but  not  with  very  sanguine  hopes  of  success. 

"  We  have  met  a  romantic  adventure  within  these  few 
days.  A  Sardinian  lad  of  fifteen  had  been  on  board  a 
little  bark  trading  in  the  Adriatic  in  1798,  when  he  was 

*  Multaque,  quae  dicentur  in  his  libris,  colligunt,  quse  talia  sunt,  ut  ea 
ipsa  DU  immortales  ad  usum  hominum  fabricati  pcene  videantur. 

29* 


342  LIFE    OF   THE  [1807. 

pressed  on  board  the  Kussian  fleet,  then  engaged  in  the 
siege  of  Corfu.  After  the  surrender  of  the  Island,  they 
left  him  to  the  Capitan  Pacha,  who  brought  him  to 
Constantinople.  He  was  there  sold  for  a  slave ;  and, 
after  many  intermediate  sales,  he  fell  into  the  hands  of 
an  Arab  at  Moussul,  who  is  lately  arrived  at  Bombay 
with  a  cargo  of  horses.  He  procured  an  Armenian  to 
inform  one  of  the  Italian  missionaries  that  the  Arab 
had  un  schiavo  Christiana.  The  missionary,  who  is  our 
Italian  master,  flew  hither  to  interest  me ;  and  by  my 
influence,  the  poor  Sardinian,  Giovanni  Antonio,  bap- 
tized by  the  Arabs — '  Sadak,'  the  Just  (the  name  which 
Voltaire  transformed  into  Zadig),  after  eight  years 
slavery  in  Turkey  and  Arabia,  was  emancipated,  threw 
himself  at  my  feet  in  the  next  room  three  days  ago,  and 
swallowed  a  bumper  of  Madeira — as  a  proof  of  Christianity, 
and  a  libation  to  freedom.  He  is  now  in  my  service." 

An  extract  follows  of  a  later  date  (July  25th). 

"  Even  out  of  England  there  are  many  places  which  I 
should  prefer  to  this.  You  will  smile  at  the  mention  of 
Botany  Bay ;  but  I  am  most  serious,  and  I  assure  you 
that  next  to  a  parliamentary  situation,  to  which  either 
nature  or  early  ambition  has  constantly  directed  my 
views,  I  should  prefer,  without  much  regarding  pecu- 
niary advantages,  that  of  being  the  lawgiver  of  Botany 
Bay.  If  I  could  rescue  at  least  the  children  of  the 
convicts  from  brutality  and  barbarism  by  education,  I 
should  (without  the  least  affectation )  consider  it  as  an 
object  to  which  I  ought  to  devote  the  greater  part  of  the 
remainder  of  my  life.  If  I  were  appointed  Governor 
and  Chief  Justice,  with  assurance  of  support  from  home, 
with  a  sufficient  military  force,  with  a  store  of  school- 
masters from  Lancaster,  with  some  good  Irish  priests 
for  their  countrymen,  and  good  methodists  for  the  rest, 
I  should  most  joyfully  endeavour  to  introduce  law  and 


1807.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR    JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  343 

morality  into  that  wretched  country,  and  give  it  (what 
never  was  yet  given  to  any  plantation)  the  fit  constitution 
for  a  penal  colony,  which  was  to  grow  into  a  great  and 
prosperous  community.  If  something  of  this  sort  be  not 
done,  I  venture  to  predict  that  Botany  Bay,  which  must 
in  spite  of  fate  speedily  grow  strong  and  populous,  will  in 
fifty  years  become  the  greatest  nuisance  on  the  face  of 
the  earth  —  an  unmixed  community  of  ruffians  who  will 
shake  off  the  yoke  of  England,  and,  placed  at  a  dis- 
tance which  makes  them  inaccessible  to  conquest,  will 
become  a  republic  of  pirates  the  most  formidable  that 
ever  roamed  the  seas.  England,  in  rearing  such  a  com- 
munity, is  preparing  not  only  conquerors  of  India,  but 
enemies  to  herself  and  to  all  mankind.  While,  on  the 
one  side,  the  experiment  of  a  reforming  penal  colony 
is  perhaps  the  grandest  ever  tried  in  morals,  it  is 
one  which  is  perfectly  safe;  for  the  settlement  never 
can  be  worse  than  it  is  now,  when  no  attempt  towards 
reformation  is  dreamt  of,  and  when  it  is  governed  on 
principles  of  political  economy  more  barbarous  than  those 
which  prevailed  under  Queen  Bess.  Every  day  the  diffi- 
culties of  the  experiment  grow  with  the  increase  of  the 
population.  If  an  enlightened  governor  be  not  sent  in  a 
few  years,  success  will  be  impossible.  I  have  read,  heard, 
and  thought  so  much  about  this  extraordinary  colony, 
that  I  am  very  confident  in  my  general  opinions ;  and  I 
confess,  between  ourselves,  that  I  am  a  piece  of  an  enthu- 
siast in  niy  reforming  projects ;  in  which  I  should  require 
a  penal  code  from  Bentham,  and  '  Popular  Tales'  from 
Miss  Edgeworth. 

"  I  literally  shed  tears  of  joy,  when  I  heard  of  a  mino- 
rity of  fifteen  against  the  abolition  of  the  slave  trade ; 
but  I  was  mortified  and  provoked  to  find  that  Windham 
could  hesitate  on  such  a  question — 

Who  would  not  weep,  if  Atticus  were  he  ! 


344  LIFE    OF   THE  [1807. 

though  I  am  far  from  degrading  him  to  a  level  with  that 
Roman  trimmer." 

The  grand  measure  of  state  policy  to  which  he  here 
alludes,  he  soon  heard  was  destined  to  be  the  sole,  though 
proudly-adequate,  memorial  of  the  tenure  of  power  by 
his  political  friends.  The  apprehensions  which  the  death 
of  Mr.  Fox  could  not  but  have  given  rise  to,  were  about 
this  time  confirmed  by  the  news  that  reached  him  of  the 
final  dissolution  of  the  Whig  government.  Meanwhile, 
great  as  was  his  dismay  at  this  occurrence,  the  din  of 
political  contention  scarcely  reached  him  in  those  retired 
fields  of  literature  whither  he  loved  to  escape,  and  whither 
we  may  follow  him  in  the  following  letter. 

TO   MALCOLM  LAING,  ESQ.,   EDINBURGH. 

"  Bombay,  2Sth  July,  1807. 

"  MY  DEAR  LAING, — I  have  already  made  two  unsuc- 
cessful attempts  to  renew  my  intercourse  with  my  old 
(I  believe  I  may  say  my  oldest)  friends  at  Edinburgh, 
by  two  letters,  at  different  times,  to  you  and  Gillies, 
both  of  which  were,  I  fear,  thrown  into  the  sea  to  pre- 
vent their  appearing  in  the  Moniteur.  The  one  was  in 
answer  to  a  recommendation  given  by  Gillies  to  a  young 
surgeon,  and  I  rebuked  him  severely  for  his  cautious  and 
ceremonious  style  to  a  friend  of  twenty  years'  standing. 
The  other  was  an  answer  to  what  I  had  then  only  seen 
in  the  Reviews  of  your  Ossian  and  your  Mary. 

"  I  have  since  read  the  books,  as  well  as  Mr.  Macken- 
zie's attempt  to  cover  the  retreat  of  our  Celtic  army.* 
I  should  have  been  better  pleased  with  a'more  unreserved 
confession ;  but  as  much  has  been  avowed  as  could  have 

*  See  Report  of  the  Committee  of  the  Highland  Society  of  Scotland, 
appointed  to  inquire  into  the  authenticity  of  these  poems. 


1807.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  345 

been  expected,  in  a  case  where  the  vanity  and  almost 
the  morality  of  so  many  individuals,  and  bodies  of  men, 
were  so  deeply  interested.  I  consider  your  Ossian  and 
Farmer's  '  Essay '  on  Shakspeare's  pretended  learning, 
as  the  two  most  complete  demonstrations  of  literary 
positions  that  have  ever  been  produced.  But  yours  was 
an  enterprise  of  far  greater  difficulty,  and  required  a  far 
other  sort  of  acuteness  and  erudition  than  ferreting  out 
half  a  score  black-letter  translations.  I  only  compare 
you  in  completeness  of  proof.  You  know  how  bitterly 
old  Klopstock  complained  of  you  for  having  dispelled  his 
Ossianic  illusions.  I  should  like  to  know  how  Cesarotti 
relishes  the  annihilation  of  the  bard,  a  translation  from 
whom  forms  so  great  a  part  of  his  fame ;  and  I  should 
be  still  more  anxious  to  hear  how  the  Corsican  endures 
(if  he  has  heard  of  it)  your  destruction  of  his  only 
classic.* 

u  I  think  you  now  owe  it  to  literature  to  propose,  and, 
if  you  are  furnished  with  materials,  to  superintend  the 
publication,  in  Gaelic  and  literal  English,  of  all  the  Celtic 
ballads  above  a  couple  of  centuries  old,  which  have  any 
poetical  merit  or  historical  value,  either  in  the  Highlands 
or  in  Ireland.  It  is  nonsense  to  distinguish  between  two 
branches  of  a  small  nation  speaking  the  same  language, 
with  so  little  variety,  that  you  can  scarce  speak  of  two 
dialects.  What  does  it  signify  whether  they  are  separated 
by  the  Irish  Channel,  or  by  the  Murray  Firth?  We  have 
not  too  much  ancient  literature  between  us. 

"  It  is  perfectly  natural  (and  it  has  happened  in  all 
countries)  that  fabulous  history,  as  it  retreats  before  criti- 
cism, should  take  refuge  among  the  dark  traditions  of  the 
most  ancient  and  ignorant  races;  and  this  has  brought  a 
bad  name,  first  upon  Irish,  and  then  upon  Scottish  anti- 

*  Buonaparte's  admiration  of  Ossian  is  well  known. 


346  LIFE   OF    THE  [1807. 

quities;  and,  as  if  fable  were  destined  to  make  the  tour 
of  all  the  Celtic  tribes,  I  observe  that  the  Welsh  Tales 
are  now  brought  into  vogue,  and  that  people  seriously 
talk  of  the  original  of  Geoffrey  of  Monmouth.  Southey's 
poem  *  contributes  something  to  this.  Turner  f  seems 
completely  duped  by  it.  My  wild  friend,  Leyden  J  (who, 
by-the-bye,  does  not  yet  know  thoroughly  above  seventy 
Indian  languages),  finds  all  the  chivalry  and  romance  of 
Europe  in  Armorica ;  and  the  extent  of  the  kingdom  of 
Strath-Clwyd  to  the  eastward,  seems  to  have  been  a 
patriotic  seduction,  which  makes  Walter  Scott  go  over 
from  the  Saxons  to  the  Britons.  This  is  too  bad.  To 
what  purpose  are  we  rid  of  Milesian  romances,  and 
Fingalian  impostures,  if  they  are  to  be  succeeded  by 
Welsh  Triads,  Carthaginian  Colonies,  and  Armorican 
originals  of  Geoffrey  of  Monmouth  ?  You  are  the  guar- 
dian of  the  purity  of  British  history ;  and  if  this  malady 
becomes  epidemical,  I  commit  it  to  your  care.  As  '  the 
scourge  of  impostors,  and  terror  of  quacks,'  I  should 
recommend  it  to  you,  when  you  are  at  leisure,  to  cast 
a  look  eastward. 

£  .    £  4*.  $  9 

"  I  have  just  finished  a  careful  perusal  of  your  Disser- 
tation on  Mary,  and  I  think  myself  bound  to  profess  my 
shame  for  having  ever  doubted  the  atrocious  guilt  of  that 
princess.  Hume  and  Robertson  are  undoubtedly  too 
mild.  The  original  documents  themselves  cannot  be 
read  without  conviction.  Whoever  doubts  the  genuine- 
ness of  the  long  letter  from  Glasgow,  or  of  Haubert's 
confession,  must  either  be  incorrigibly  prejudiced,  or 
altogether  unaccustomed  to  the  examination  of  evidence. 
If  she  were  tried  before  me,  I  should  certainly  direct  a 

*  "Madoc." 

t  "  Vindication  of  the  Ancient  British  Poems  of  Aneurin,  &c." 

J  The  late  John  Leyden,  author  of  "  Scenes  of  Infancy." 


1807.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  347 

jury  to  find  her  guilty.   Her  adversaries  (with  the  excep- 
tion of  Murray)  seem  a  detestable  gang.     Only  think  of 
the  conferences  at  York  and  Westminster,  in  which  there 
were  at  least  two  accusers,  Lethington  and  Morton,  who 
were  more  or  less  concerned  in  the  murder;  for,  after 
all  Morton's  dying  piety,  by  his  own  account,  while  his 
hands  were  reeking  with  Rizzio's  blood,  he  haggles  for 
a  written  warrant  from  Mary,  he  suffers  at  least  the 
murderous  plot  to  proceed  for  months,  undisturbed  by 
him,  to  its  completion,  and  he  at  last  acts  a  principal 
part  in  the  collusive  acquittal  of  him  whom  he  knew  to 
be  the  murderer.     Indeed  the  Scottish  Court  and  nation 
were  then  little  less  barbarous,  bloody,  and  perfidious, 
than  Abyssinia  in  the  time  of  Bruce,  though  the  litera- 
ture of  Buchanan,  and  the  beauty  of  the  unfortunate 
Mary,  throw  a  little  fallacious  brilliancy  around  them. 
One  reflection  struck  me  :  in  so  small  a  town  as  Edin- 
burgh then  was,  and  at  so  little  a  court  as  that  of  Mary, 
I  think  it  impossible  that  all  the  circumstances  of  a 
murder  so  long  conspired,  communicated  to  so  many 
noblemen,  and  executed  by  so  many  of  Bothwell's  de- 
pendents, should  not  have  very  soon  transpired,  and  been 
really  known  in  the  whole  society,  before  any  formal 
evidence  of  them  was  in  existence.     The  contrivance  of 
a  false  tale,  the  forgery  of  the  letters,  &c.,  were,  in  such 
circumstances,  impossible.     Haubert,  the  Queen's  valet, 
was  a  person  of  some  consequence.   The  gentlemen  who 
were   Bothwell's  retainers  were  still  more  so.     Their 
confession,  if  forged,  would  have  been  contradicted  by 
witnesses  enough.     I  speak  now  with  some  little  experi- 
ence of  such  matters.   I  have  been  three  years  a  criminal 
judge,  and  I  know  what  becomes  of  secrets  in  small 
v  societies. 

u  I  hope  Walter  Scott  will  give  us  an  epic  on  Bruce 


348  LIFE    OF   THE  [1807 

or  Wallace.     If  I  knew  him  enough,  I  should  write  him 
a  letter  to  exhort  him  to  undertake  it. 

'  Forte  epos  acer 


Ut  nemo  Varius  ducit.' 

He  has  genius  and  fire  enough  for  the  general  excellen- 
cies of  epic  poetry,  and  his  habits  of  minstrelsy  will  give 
it  the  colour  of  the  age  and  nation.  Exhort  him  to 
this  for  his  own  honour,  and  that  of  Scotland,  and  for — 
my  delight. 

u  What  are  you  about  ?  Have  you  any  new  historical 
work  on  the  anvil  ?  We  talked  long  ago  of  Frederic.  It 
would  require  much  German  and  tactics. 

"  How  do  Scottish  politics  go  on  under  the  adminis- 
tration of  a  second  Lauderdale,  who  will,  I  hope,  make 
the  tyranny  of  the  first  be  forgotten  ?  Does  any  thing 
rise  among  you  in  literature  ?  I  wish,  and  fear,  to  know, 
what  is  the  condition  of  poor  Wilde.  I  shall  never  cease 
to  think  of  him  with  affection ;  he  is  the  ruins  of  a  man 
of  great  genius. 

*  I  was  delighted  with  your  philippic  in  the  assembly 
against  the  Edinburgh  clergy,  who  have  brought  some 
reproach  upon  the  character  of  their  body,  and  of  their 
age.*     By-the-bye,  deliver  my  best  respects  to  Professor 
Leslie,  and  tell  him  I  wait  most  impatiently  for  his 
Memorials  of  poor  Wedgwood.      He  and  Playfair  are 
introducing  eloquence  into  physics  in  Britain,  as  Buffon 
did  in   France.      Dugald  Stewart  proves  deaf  to  my 
requests  of  correspondence ;  but  I  hope  that  you  will  not. 
An  annual  letter  of  Scottish  politics  and  literature  will  be 
a  very  great  luxury;  and  I  shall  endeavour,  according 
to  the  ancient  custom  of  commerce  between  the  East  and 

*  Referring  to  the  affair  of  Professor  Leslie,  already  alluded  to. 


1807.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  349 

West,  to  send  you  some  Indian  drugs  in  return  for  your 
sterling  money. 

"  Threipland,*  whom  you  know,  and  who  is  flourishing 
here,  as  he  deserves,  tells  me  that  I  have  to  congratulate 
you  on  marriage  — 

*  Quae  sera  tamen  respexit  inertem.' 

I  do  so  most  heartily.  With  most  affectionate  remem- 
brances to  Gillies,  and  to  all  of  our  friends  who  ever  think 
of  me,  I  ever  am, 

"  My  dear  Laing, 

u  Most  truly  yours, 

"J.  MACKINTOSH." 

JOURNAL. 

"September  13th. — Soon  after  the  above  note  (January 
15th),  I  was  taken  ill.  I  now  resume  my  notes,  perhaps 
the  only  writing  I  shall  ever  write. 

"I  have  just  read  Priestley's  Life  of  himself.  It  is 
an  honest,  plain,  and  somewhat  dry  account  of  a  well- 
spent  life.  But  I  never  read  such  a  narrative,  however 
written,  without  feeling  my  mind  softened  and  bettered, 
at  least  for  a  time.  Priestley  was  a  good  man,  though 
his  life  was  too  busy  to  leave  him  leisure  for  that  refine- 
ment and  ardour  of  moral  sentiment,  which  have  been 
felt  by  men  of  less  blameless  life.  Frankness  and  dis- 
interestedness in  the  avowal  of  his  opinion,  were  his 
point  of  honour.  In  other  respects,  his  morality  was 
more  useful  than  brilliant.  But  the  virtue  of  the  senti- 
mental moralist  is  so  over  precarious  and  ostentatious, 
that  he  can  seldom  be  entitled  to  look  down  with  con- 
tempt on  the  steady,  though  homely,  morals  of  the 
household. 

*  Stewart  Moncrief  Threipland,  Esq.,  then  practising  at  the  bar  at 
Bombay. 

VOL.  I.  30 


350  LIFE    OF    THE  [1807. 

"  [Some  circumstances  of  resemblance  to  myself, 
struck  me  as  I  went  on :  The  theological  character  of 
our  first  metaphysical  studies ;  our  Hartleianism ;  the 
singularity  of  having  studied  physiology  and  law ;  great 
mental  power  in  him,  and  some  little,  perhaps,  in  me, 
wasted  and  scattered ;  and  finally,  our  exile  in  countries 
where  we  cannot  have  a  neighbour  to  understand  us; — 
are  odd  coincidences  in  character  and  fortune  :  and  I 
think  it  highly  probable,  considering  all  circumstances, 
that  I  may  end  my  days  like  him,  on  the  Susquehanna, 
or  the  Ohio.] 

"  How  different  from  the  life  of  Priestley  was  another, 
of  which  I  have  lately  contemplated  a  remarkable  part !  — 
I  mean  the  life  of  Mirabeau,  as  it  is  exhibited  in  his 
Lettres  a  Sophie. 

"  30th.  [An  entry  mentions  that  Lady  M.'s  very 
severe  and  alarming  illness  had  interrupted  his  notes.] 
The  impression  of  Mirabeau's  letters  is  become  fainter, 
but  I  will  copy  it. 

"  They  contain  a  dreadful  and  instructive  picture  of 
the  interior  of  families  in  France,  on  the  eve  of  the  Revo- 
lution. The  Marquis  de  Mirabeau  was  a  man  of  easy 
fortune,  distinguished  by  his  talents  and  rank,  and  who 
always  preserved  a  considerable  place  in  society.  In  such 
a  family,  the  father,  mother,  sou,  and  daughter,  accuse 
each  other  of  crimes,  which  were,  I  suppose,  not  real, 
but  which,  it  seems,  were  not  considered  as  incredible. 
They  lived  in  the  open  practice  of  great  vices.  They 
imputed  to  each  other  the  most  abominable  enormities. 
The  father  imprisoned  his  wife  twice,  and  confined  his 
son  for  nearly  twelve  years.  That  son,  one  of  the  ablest 
men  in  Europe,  is,  with  apparent  injustice,  condemned 
to  death  by  one  court,  and  separated  from  his  wife,  on  the 
alleged  ground  of  his  cruelty,  by  another.  He  is  carried 
from  prison  to  prison.  He  afterwards  carries  a  succession 


1807.]  RIGHT  HON.    SIB   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  351 

of  adultresses  from  exile  to  exile,  where  he  earns  a  scanty 
bread  by  libellous  or  obscene  publications.  This  man  of 
brilliant  genius  and  illustrious  birth  is  at  last,  as  his 
highest  preferment,  sent  to  Berlin  as  a  spy.  This  was 
the  school  which  formed  him  for  the  Revolution.  The 
family  is  a  sample,  though  I  hope  not  a  fair  one,  both  of 
the  ancient  nobility  and  of  the  modern  philosophers.  The 
Mirabeaus  were  noblemen  and  philosophers,  and  the  son 
became  also  a  demagogue. 

"  His  whole  life  had  been  a  war  with  the  authorities 
and  institutions  of  society.  He  could  not  estimate  them 
calmly.  Even  his  unjust  sufferings,  which  indeed  seem 
to  have  been  the  most  frequent,  disqualified  him  to  judge 
them.  His  hatred  of  religion,  or  of  French  popery  (the 
only  religion  he  saw),  contributed  to  inflame  his  animo- 
sity against  the  whole  political  system  of  his  country, 
with  which  that  religion  was  interwoven.  It  also  con- 
curred with  fashion,  to  loosen,  or  rather  destroy,  that 
part  of  morality,  which  relates  to  the  intercourse  of  the 
sexes,  on  which  religious  moralists  lay  so  much  stress, 
and  which  Catholic  superstition  had  loaded  with  so  many 
absurd  notions  and  injurious  practices.  To  speak  of  his 
anti-religious  enthusiasm  in  the  mildest  terms,  it  had 
weakened  the  authority  of  all  the  rules  of  morals,  which, 
though  they  doubtless  had,  or  might  have  had,  an  inde- 
pendent basis,  were,  in  fact,  in  our  systems  of  education, 
built  on  a  religious  foundation.  In  an  age  where  many 
new  truths  were  discovered,  he  received  all  the  prevalent 
moral  and  political  speculations  of  his  time  as  discoveries. 
The  ardour  of  novelty,  and  the  confidence  of  discovery, 
were  blended  with  all  his  sentiments.  He  at  last  came 
to  reform  the  institutions  of  the  state,  with  all  the  ran- 
cour of  revenge,  with  all  the  dogmatism  of  a  man  who 
believed  every  novelty  to  be  a  discovery,  with  the  fana- 


352  LIFE    OF   THE  [1807. 

ticism  which  he  caught  from  those  numerous  bodies  who 
had  similar  passions,  and  with  that  total  indifference  in 
the  choice  of  means,  which  such  a  fanaticism  always  pro- 
duces, and  which  was,  in  his  case,  still  farther  cherished 
by  the  habits  of  a  profligate  life,  and  by  a  mind  unsettled 
in  all  the  opinions  which  border  most  closely  on  moral 
principles.  Vengeance,  ambition,  philosophical  enthu- 
siasm, stimulated  his  mind.  Confident  hope  of  incalcu- 
lable public  benefit,  seemed  to  sanctify  every  means,  how- 
ever apparently  criminal.  He  appears  to  have  recognised 
no  moral  rule.,  and  revered  no  moral  principle.  The 
only  moral  sentiment  which  he  retained,  was  a  general 
desire  of  public  liberty  and  happiness,  which  he,  no 
doubt,  still  thought  would  be  promoted  by  the  Revolu- 
tion. He  regarded  with  no  horror — if  he  did  not  pro- 
mote— the  murder  of  the  counter-revolutionists;  but  even 
from  them  he  did  not  scruple  to  receive  bribes,  the  means 
of  supporting  that  furious  debauchery,  of  which  he  died 
the  victim. 

"  The  letters  of  this  extraordinary  man  are  all  full  of 
the  highest  flights  of  virtuous  sentiment,  amidst  the 
grossest  obscenities,  and  the  constant  violation  of  the  most 
sacred  duties.  Yet  these  declarations  of  sentiment  were 
not  insincere.  They  were  only  useless,  and  perhaps  per- 
nicious, as  they  concealed  from  him  that  depravity  which 
he  could  scarcely  otherwise  have  endured. 

"  A  fair  recital  of  his  conduct  must  always  have  the 
air  of  invective.  Yet  his  mind  had,  originally,  grand 
capabilities.  It  had  many  irregular  sketches  of  high 
virtue ;  and  he  must  have  had  many  moments  of  the 
noblest  moral  enthusiasm. 

"  The  Letters  and  the  ( Memoires  de  Bezenval,'  are,  I 
think,  the  most  valuable  documents  relating  to  that  moral 
condition  of  France,  out  of  which  the  Revolution  arose. 


1807.]  BIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  353 

"  October  24th. —  Completed  the  forty-second  year  of  a 
life  of  projects  and  inactivity. 

"  Embarked  on  board  the  '  Devonshire,'  on  a  voyage 

down  the  coast,  for  the  re-establishment  of  C 's 

health. 

"  Heard  the  news  of  peace  between  Russia  and  France,* 
which  must  mean,  that  Russia  preserves  her  snows,  and 
leaves  the  civilised  world  to  France. 

«25th.—  N.  lat.  18°— off  Bancoote.  C consi- 
derably better.  The  operation  of  the  sea  on  health  is 
unexplained,  and,  consequently,  cannot  be  regulated  or 
rationally  directed ;  but  it  is  evident,  and  very  powerful. 
It  is  a  noble  field  of  observation  for  a  scientific  physician. 

"  —  Read  100  pages  of  Fichte's  Lectures  on  the  cha- 
racteristic features  of  the  present  age, — a  very  ingenious 
book,  with  most  striking  parts.  He  divides  the  history  of 
the  human  race  into  five  periods. 

"  1.  Period  of  blind,  but  spontaneous  obedience  to  the 
rational  instincts. 

"  2.  Period  of  compulsory  obedience  to  the  dictates  of 
these  instincts,  enforced  by  political  authority. 

"  3.  Period  of  effort  to  shake  off  this  yoke,  with  a 
tendency  and  desire  to  live  deliberately,  according  to  the 
dictates  of  reason ;  which,  however,  are  not  yet  under- 
stood. 

"  4.  Period  of  science,  when  the  principles  of  reason 
and  the  rule  of  rational  life  are  understood,  and  men 
constantly  seek  to  obey  them. 

"  5.  Period,  when  the  art  and  habit  of  rational  life  is 
completely  obtained,  or  consummation  of  human  per- 
fection. 

"  The  third,  the  age  of  intellectual,  moral,  and  political 
anarchy,  is  that  in  which  we  now  live. 

*  Signed  at  Tilsit,  July  7th. 
30* 


354  LIFE    OF   THE  [1807. 

"  The  last  part  of  what  I  read  contains  eloquent  invec- 
tives, and  even  strong  argument,  against  the  selfish 
system;  but  it  is  so  exaggerated  by  moral  fanaticism, 
and  disguised  by  mysticism,  that  a  translation  into  the 
language  and  tone  of  English  philosophy  would  be  a  new 
work.  The  author  is  no  mean  man.  How  strange  that 
he  should  be  as  unknown  in  England  as  Avicenna ! 

"26th  and  27th.  —  Employed  in  writing  Observa- 
tions on  the  finances  of  the  Island  of  Salsette,  for  Mr. 
Duncan.* 

"Read  the  first  four  acts  of  Massinger's  ' Virgin 
Martyr,'  and  Gifford's  very  agreeably  written  f  Intro- 
duction.' The  merits  of  the  poet  are  certainly  great ; 
though,  as  usual,  rather  exaggerated  by  the  editor.  The 
style  is  most  elegant ;  and,  as  has  often  been  observed, 
modern  to  a  miracle.  There  is  great  moral  grandeur  in 
the  conception  of  the  principal  character,  but  no  proba- 
bility, no  decorum,  a  grossness,  so  rank  as  to  be  perfectly 
disgusting. 

"Late  in  the  evening  of  the  27th,  we  cast  anchor  off 
Goa. 

"28th.  —  The  entrance  of  Goa  harbour  is  formed  by 
Agoada,  an  elevated  rocky  promontory  to  the  north,  and 
Cabo,  a  similar  point,  of  less  elevation,  to  the  south.  The 
only  passage  for  large  ships  is  commanded  by  the  guns 
of  two  forts  at  Agoada.  On  the  point  of  Cabo  is  a 
Dominican  monastery,  which  is  a  fine  object. 

"  Immediately  after  breakfast,  Captain  Schuyler,  the 
temporary  Resident,  and  our  friends,  Major  and  Mrs. 
Campbell,  waited  upon  us  to  invite  us  to  the  Residency. 
We  went  on  shore  with  them.  There  are  about  4000 
British  troops,  European  and  native,  at  this  place.  Two 
regiments  occupy  Agoada,  the  strongest  fortification  and 

*  These  he  communicated  to  that  gentleman,  who  availed  himself  of 
them  in  his  plans  for  the  improvement  of  the  island. 


1807.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  355 

the  most  important  position.  The  main  body  of  the 
troops  are  cantoned  on  Cabo,  near  the  Residency. 

"  As  we  approached  the  shore,  we  were  struck  by  a 
perpendicular  wooded  clifi^  extending  on  our  right  from 
the  monastery,  Nossa  Senhora  do  Cabo,  to  the  British 
cantonments, — of  which  the  bungalows  and  tents  over- 
looked the  bay  from  the  brow  of  the  cliff.  C and 

the  children  went  up  the  hill  in  palankeens  (a  luxurious 
conveyance,  confined  here  to  ladies) ;  but  I,  for  the  first 
time,  lay  in  a  monckil,  or  covered  hammock,  carried  by 
a  pole  on  men's  heads,  used  by  the  Portuguese,  both 
here  and  at  Madeira.  To  make  this  a  pleasant  convey- 
ance, would  have  required  more  skill  in  balancing  than  I 
possess. 

"  The  Residency  is  ill-built  and  ill-furnished  ;  but,  for 
a  house  of  only  one  story,  spacious,  and  containing  nume- 
rous apartments.  It  exhibited  in  the  evening,  at  a  dinner 
given  to  a  party  of  twenty  people,  the  usual  Indian  abun- 
dance of  English  eatables  and  drinkables.  The  Resident 
is  a  good-natured,  gentlemanlike  young  man,  who  fills  the 
place  provisionally  till  a  Resident  be  appointed. 

"  The  English  auxiliary  force  is  entirely  confined  to 
the  forts  of  Agoada  and  Cabo,  which  command  the 
entrance  of  the  harbour.  The  whole  country  is  left  to 
the  Portuguese,  without  the  least  interference.  They 
are  relieved  from  the  expense  of  occupying  two  posts, 
which  at  any  rate  they  could  not  have  defended.  As  the 
bar  cannot  be  crossed  by  large  ships,  without  risk  or 
great  trouble,  Goa  is  not  a  harbour  of  the  first  class ; 
but,  next  to  Bombay,  it  is  the  best  from  Trincomalee  to 
the  Gulf  of  Persia.  It  was,  therefore,  thought  necessary 
to  guard  it,  and  its  defenceless  masters,  against  a  French 
attack.  The  only  injury  we  do  the  Portuguese  is,  that 
we  entitle  France  to  charge  her  with  a  deviation  from 
neutrality,  and  justify  her  in  any  similar  occupation  of 


356  LIFE    OF   THE  [1807. 

the  Portuguese  territory,  which  she  may  hereafter  find 
convenient. 

"29th. — This  day  was  employed  in  our  excursion  from 
the  cantonment  at  Cabo  to  the  city  of  Goa,  which  the 
English  call,  not  very  improperly  in  one  respect,  Old  Goa, 
though  no  newer  city  of  that  name  has  succeeded. 

"  "We  set  off  in  two  boats  about  eight  o'clock.  The 
narrow  arm  of  the  sea,  called  a  river,  which  forms  the 
island  of  Goa,  soon  began  to  show  great  beauties.  On  the 
left  are  the  church  and  monastery  of  Reyes,  where  the 
Viceroys  pass  some  days  in  fasting  and  prayer,  before  they 
proceed  to  take  possession  of  their  government.  Beyond 
this  church,  a  variegated  country  of  rich  plains  and  well- 
wooded  eminences,  crowned  with  churches  and  monas- 
teries (among  which  the  ruins  of  a  Jesuit's  College  were 
distinguished  by  superior  grandeur),  stretched  to  the 
Ghauts;  which,  at  the  distance  of  twenty  or  thirty  miles, 
formed  a  lofty  and  rugged  boundary  of  the  view.  On  the 
right,  every  reach  of  the  river  presented  a  new  prospect. 
The  principal  features  were  the  not  unhandsome  houses 
of  the  Portuguese  fidalgos,  or  gentlemen,  gathered  into 
three  or  four  villages  on  the  edge  of  the  water.  Some  of 
them  were  not  unlike  French  country  houses,  of  the  better 
sort;  and  Colonel  Adams*  agreed  with  me,  that  if  we 
were  to  exclude  the  mountainous  back-ground,  we  might 
have  fancied  ourselves  rowing  along  the  Scheldt,  from 
the  appearance  of  the  houses  and  the  richness  of  the 
plain  immediately  adjoining  to  us  on  the  right. 

"About  four  miles  on  our  course  we  came  to  Panjam, 
one  of  their  villages,  in  which  the  Viceroy  has  a  handsome 
country  house,  which  the  Portuguese,  with  their  usual 
magnificence,  call  a  palace.  In  this  little  settlement 
they  have  two  palaces,  a  viceroy,  an  archbishop,  and  a 

*  The  late  Major-General  Adams. 


1807.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  357 

chancellor ;  while  at  Bombay,  where  we  have  an  army  of 
25,000  men,  we  content  ourselves  with  a  governor,  a 
recorder,  and  a  senior  chaplain.  At  Panjam  we  took  on 
board  our  cicerone  for  Goa,  Major  Braam  Kamp,  com- 
mandant of  the  Portuguese  cavalry,  as  well  as  principal 
bullock  and  snuff-merchant,  at  this  place.  He  was  well 
enough  dressed  in  his  uniform,  and  proved  a  very  amusing 
as  well  as  useful  companion.  He  is  the  son  of  a  Dutch 
family  established  at  Lisbon.  Dutch  is  his  mother  tongue, 
and  Portuguese  the  language  of  his  country.  He  speaks 
English  well,  and  French  perfectly.  He  has  a  smattering 
of  German,  and  can  understand  Spanish.  He  has  tra- 
velled over  the  greater  part  of  Europe,  and  lived  some 
time  in  her  two  great  capitals,  London  and  Paris.  He 
is  a  clever  fellow,  with  considerable  knowledge  of  the 
world  ;  and  he  tells  his  story  well. 

"  This  scenery  continued  till,  on  turning  the  reach 
of  the  river,  on  a  retiring  amphitheatre,  the  buildings 
called  the  city  of  Old  Goa,  opened  with  a  very  palatial 
appearance.  The  unhealthiness  of  the  situation  has  caused 
it  to  be  deserted  by  the  Portuguese  proprietors  and 
officers,  who  are  scattered  over  the  villages,  as  I  have 
mentioned  above ;  and  the  decay,  or  rather  annihilation, 
of  trade  and  opulence  is  so  entire,  that  it  has  lost  the 
power  of  attracting  natives,  and  this  seat  of  government 
has  not  even  a  black  town — the  sure  attendant  of  the 
smallest  British  factory.  As  we  looked  on  a  ruined  parish 
church,  the  Major  informed  me  that  the  parish  appeared, 
from  old  registers,  to  have  once  contained  seventeen 
thousand  inhabitants,  though  it  does  not  now  contain 
seventeen.  Goa  has  no  private  houses ;  it  consists  of 
the  palace,  the  senate-house,  (for  so  a  shabby  town-hall 
is  called,)  a  court  of  justice,  the  office  of  inquisition,  the 
cathedral,  two  or  three  more  churches,  the  archiepiscopal 


358  LIFE   OF    THE  [1807. 

palace,  and  six  or  eight  monasteries  of  Dominicans,  Fran- 
ciscans, and  Augustinians,  and  one  large  nunnery.  None 
of  these  buildings  are  without  merit,  and  some  of  them 
are  elegant.  The  approach  is  very  fine,  and  the  general 
appearance  reminds  one  of  the  High-street  at  Oxford, 
without  the  houses.  It  literally  agrees  with  the  descrip- 
tion of  Goldsmith  — 

'  Towns  unmanned,  and  lords  without  a  slave.' 

We  first  visited  the  Government-house,  which  they  call 
the  palace.  It  is  not  inhabited,  and  only  used  for  occa- 
sions of  state.  It  has  a  handsome  gallery  and  presence- 
chamber.  In  the  last  is  a  new  crimson  velvet  chair  under 
a  canopy,  and  in  the  gallery  are  scarlet  curtains,  with  the 
arms  of  Portugal.  Both  are  additions  by  the  present 
Viceroy,  and  they  are  said  to  have  considerably  distressed 
the  Treasury. 

u  Near  the  palace  is  the  church  of  Cajetan,  built  from 
a  model  of  St.  Peter's,  by  native  workmen,  under  the 
direction  of  the  Jesuits.  It  is  perfectly  elegant :  but 

F ,*  with  all  her  genius,  which  ought  in  due  time 

to  bring  forth  taste,  was  most  delighted  with  the  gor- 
geous church  of  the  Franciscan  monastery,  which  seemed 
ready  to 

'  Shower  barbaric  pearl  and  gold.' 

"  The  church  dedicated  to  St.  Francis  Xavier,  the 
Apostle  of  the  Indies,  has  nothing  observable  as  a  build- 
ing ;  but  it  contains  two  works  of  art,  the  most  perfect 
that  ever  visited  India,  and  which  would,  I  suppose,  be 
admired  even  at  Florence  or  Rome — the  tomb  of  St. 
Francis  Xavier,  and  his  head ;  the  last  ascribed  to  Guido, 
which  I  should  humbly  think  from  its  excellence  it  might 

*  His  fourth  daughter,  seven  years  of  age. 


1807.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  359 

justly  be,  though  I  dare  not  venture  to  give  an  opinion 
on  such  a  subject.  The  tomb  seems  a  most  rich  and 
beautiful  piece  of  sculpture.  I  say  seems,  because  it  is 
here  so  buried  in  a  narrow  chapel,  that  it  is  impossible 
to  have  a  view  of  the  whole,  and  barely  possible  to  grope 
one's  way  over  its  parts. 

"  Francis  Xavier  was  a  very  extraordinary  man.  Per- 
suasive and  commanding  eloquence,  an  ascendant  over 
the  minds  of  men,  unconquerable  patience  in  suffering, 
intrepid  courage  amidst  the  most  dreadful  dangers,  and 
a  life  devoted  with  inflexible  constancy  to  a  purely  dis- 
interested purpose,  form  a  combination  which  varies  its 
exterior  and  its  direction  according  to  the  opinions  and 
manners  of  various  ages  and  nations.  In  one  age  it  pro- 
duces a  Xavier ;  in  another  a  Howard.  It  may  some- 
times take  a  direction,  which  we  may  think  pernicious, 
and  a  form  not  agreeable  to  our  moral  taste ;  but  the 
qualities  themselves  are  always  admirable,  and  by  the 
philosophical  observer,  whose  eye  penetrates  through  the 
disguise  of  a  local  and  temporary  fashion,  and  recognises 
the  principles  on  which  depends  the  superiority  of  one 
mind  over  another,  they  will  always  be  revered.  The 
truth  of  many  opinions  for  which  Xavier  contended,  it  is 
not  very  easy  to  maintain ;  but  he  taught  to  slaves  the 
moral  dignity  of  their  nature ;  he  preached  humility 
to  tyrants,  and  benevolence  to  savages.  He  must  have 
told  the  outcast  Hindu,  that  in  the  grandest  point  of 
view,  he  was  the  equal  of  his  Rajah,  and  the  ferocious 
Malay,  that  his  enemy  was  his  brother.  He  therefore 
diffused  the  fruits  of  the  best  philosophy,  and  laboured 
to  improve  and  ennoble  human  nature.  I  am  sorry  to 
find  miraculous  tales  related  of  him ;  but  I  hope  they  are 
only  proofs  of  the  profound  reverence  which  his  virtues 
left  behind  them,  and  that  he  did  not  sully  his  great 


360  LIFE    OF    THE  [1807. 

character  by  any  pretensions  which  might  approach  to 
imposture. 

"We  went  through  the  Dominican  and  Augustinian 
monasteries,  which  contain  nothing  remarkable,  except 
the  prodigious  number  of  monks,  and  the  very  beautiful 
views  from  the  gallery  of  the  latter.  After  several  fruit- 
less attempts  on  my  part,  to  enter  into  a  Latin  conversa- 
tion, they  at  last  produced  two  Augustinians,  with  whom, 
by  the  help  of  Scotch  pronunciation,  I  talked  intelligibly. 
They  told  me  they  had  3000  volumes  in  their  library ; 
but  they  had  made  no  additions  to  it  for  many  years ; 
and  when  I  expressed  a  wish  to  see  it,  they  said  it  was 
in  another  house.  They  have  professors  of  theology, 
humanity,  and  of  what  they  call  philosophy,  who  instruct 
(if  that  word  may  be  used)  their  black  priests  and  a  few 
young  laymen. 

"  We  visited  the  convent,  which  contains  fifty-eight 
nuns  and  three  hundred  black  female  servants.  One 
nun  is  eighty-four,  and  has  inhabited  this  convent  for 
sixty-eight  years.  They  had  all  the  same  appearance — 
pale,  diseased,  vulgar,  and  stupid.  They  sold  some 
purses  at  the  grate  to  our  ladies,  and  no  pedler  could  be 
more  eager  to  receive  the  price  than  the  Lady  Abbess. 
This  would  be  a  horrible  prison  for  any  woman  accus- 
tomed to  cheerful  and  social  life.  A  French,  or  even 
English,  woman  could  scarcely  commit  a  crime  for  which 
it  would  not  be  a  sufficient  punishment;  but  to  the  Portu- 
guese ladies  of  Goa  it  can  have  few  terrors.  To  renounce 
the  world  is,  in  them,  no  great  act  of  self-denial ;  they 
have  little  to  sacrifice  to  their  superstition ;  no  education 
is  even  professed  to  be  given  to  them ;  their  manners 
are  utterly  unrefined.  Few  of  them  had  quitted  their 
bed-chambers,  except  to  go  to  mass,  till  the  English 
officers  introduced  some  sort  of  society.  The  Confessor 


1807.]  BIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  361 

of  this  convent,  a  native  of  Oporto,  spoke  tolerable 
French,  and  had  the  manners  of  a  man  of  sense,  who  had 
lived  in  society. 

"At  three  o'clock  I  went,  by  appointment,  to  the 
palace,  to  be  presented  to  the  Viceroy,  the  Conde  de 
Zarzadas.  I  was  amused  with  seeing  at  the  door  an  old 
chariot  of  the  Duke  of  Sussex,  with  the  royal  arms  of 
England,  which,  in  the  hurry  of  the  Viceroy's  leaving 
Portugal,  was,  it  seems,  the  only  good  carriage  he  could 
procure  at  Lisbon.*  The  Conde  was  handsomely  dressed 
in  scarlet  and  gold  lace.  He  had  the  air  of  a  man  of 
rank,  and  might  have  been  taken  for  an  old  French 
general  officer.  He  is  of  the  family  of  Tavora,  nearly 
destroyed  by  Pombal,  for  the  real  or  pretended  conspiracy 
to  assassinate  the  King.  He  claims  descent  from  the 
house  of  Lorraine,  and  consequently  may  boast  that  all 
the  imperial  and  royal  blood  in  Europe  (except  that  of 
the  Corsican  dynasty)  flows  in  his  veins.  He  speaks 
English  well,  and  French  perfectly.  We  conversed  about 
half  an  hour,  on  general  subjects,  and  with  the  double 
reserve  of  official  stations,  and  of  a  first  interview.  As 
far  as  I  could  judge  from  such  a  constrained  conver- 
sation, he  appeared  to  me  not  deficient  in  understanding, 
and  rather  above  than  below  what  I  expected.  As  usual, 
he  made  flaming  professions  of  Anglicism.  He  spoke 
of  the  supposed  Russian  victories  as  advantageous  'A 
noire  parti ;'  and  he  said,  eje  snis  Anglais  decide,  et  reconnu 
pour  tel  en  Europe!  He  had  been  fourteen  years  Governor 
of  the  province  in  Brazil  which  contains  the  gold-mines, 
and  which,  to  my  surprise,  he  told  me,  has  a  population 
of  more  than  half  a  million.  The  temperature  is  mild, 
and  the  country  healthy. 

*  Left  probably  on  the  breaking  up  of  His  Royal  Highness's  estab- 
lishment at  that  place,  some  years  previously. 
VOL.  L  31 


362  LIFE   OF   THE  [1807. 

"At  four  we  went  to  the  cathedral, where  'Te  Deum' 
was  performed  before  the  Viceroy,  for  the  safe  delivery  of 
the  Princess  of  Brazil.  I  was  called  into  the  choir,  and 
had  the  honour  of  sitting  next  the  first  Inquisitor,  a  tall 
monk,  of  a  coarse  and  savage  countenance,  who  looked 
as  if  he  would  not  object  to  the  effective  revival  of  the 
functions  of  his  office,  which  even  here  have  almost 
dwindled  down  to  formality,  or  are  only  exerted  once  in 
two  or  three  years,  by  inflicting  a  fortnight's  imprison- 
ment on  a  young  Portuguese,  who  may  publicly  insult 
the  established  worship.  The  Chancellor  and  three  other 
judges  (called,  I  know  not  why,  Desembargadores*}  sat 
opposite  to  me.  They  were  dressed  in  black  silk  robes, 
their  hair  hanging  united  behind,  in  the  manner  of  the 
French  bar.  They  seemed  to  look  with  some  surprise  on 
the  levity  of  their  English  brother,  in  white  waistcoat 
and  breeches,  and  green  silk  frock.  They  were  the  most 
gentlemanlike  Portuguese  present,  though  the  whole 
settlement  was  assembled  to  celebrate  what  the  Adju- 
tant-General, in  his  letter  to  Colonel  Adams,  called  '  the 
good  success  of  the  Princess  of  Brazil.'  None  of  the  rest 
appeared  to  be  above  our  third  rank  at  Bombay. 

"  I  was  a  good  deal  entertained  and  fatigued  by  these 
various  operations,  in  one  of  the  most  sultry  days  I  have 
felt  in  India.  We  re-embarked  about  five  o'clock  for 
Cabo,  and,  as  the  evening  advanced,  were  much  pleased 
with  the  illumination  of  almost  all  the  houses,  forts,  and 
churches,  which  had  afforded  us  another  sort  of  pleasure 
in  the  morning. 

"  We  had  a  good  deal  of  thunder  and  lightning,  and 
just  on  our  landing  a  most  unseasonable  and  violent 
shower  of  rain,  under  which  we  were  obliged  to  walk 

*  The  Judges  of  Appeal  were  so  called  under  the  old  regime  of 
Portugal;  (desembargar  —  to  take  off,  by  their  judgment,  the  embargo 
laid  upon  the  suit  by  the  decision  of  the  Court  below). 


1807.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  363 

more  than  a  quarter  of  a  mile  to  the  Residency,  I  was 

greatly  alarmed  for  C ;  but  we  have,  for  the  present 

at  least,  escaped  all  bad  consequences. 

"  30th. — At  ten  this  morning  returned  to  the  Devon- 
shire, to  proceed  on  our  voyage  to  Tellicherry,  where, 
after  some  severe  squalls,  and  some  threatenings  of  a 
serious  breeze,  we  arrived  on  the  evening  of  the  4th  of 
November. 

"November  5th. — In  our  voyage  from  Goa  hither, 

C began  Payne  Knight's  book.  I  think  I  cleared 

up  the  confusion  in  his  preface,  and  successfully  explained 
Mr.  Burke's  meaning  on  the  subject  of  Terror,  which 
Payne  Knight  certainly  misunderstands. 

"  We  read,  with  the  strongest  feelings  of  admiration, 
horror,  and  disgust,  Massinger's  Tragedy  of  the  '  Unna- 
tural Combat.'  It  is  surprising  that  a  poet  of  so  much 
taste  and  judgment  in  his  style,  should  have  none  in  his 
story,  characters,  or  manners.  But  it  was  with  Massin- 
ger's taste,  as  with  Shakspeare's  genius,  which  is  displayed 
with  such  prodigal  magnificence  in  the  parts,  but  never 
employed  in  the  construction  of  the  whole.  No  English- 
man, after  this  play,  ought  ever  to  speak  of  the  horrors 
of  the  German  stage.  It  turns  on  a  man  who  first  mur- 
ders his  innocent  wife,  then  his  heroic  son,  and  at  last 
seeks  to  debauch  his  angelic  daughter,  who  is  violated  by 
a  ruffian,  into  whose  custody  he  has  committed  her.  Yet 
it  is  a  noble  drama,  and,  if  decency  could  allow  it  to  be 
acted,  would  afford  ample  scope  for  the  talents  of  the 
greatest  performer. 

"  Finished  Fichte, — a  book  certainly  of  extraordinary 
merit,  but  so  mysterious  and  dogmatical,  as  to  be  often 
unintelligible,  and  often  offensive.  Read  one  hundred 
pages  of  *  Kieswetter's  Introduction  to  the  Kantian  Phi- 
losophy.' It  is  the  first  clear  book  on  this  subject,  which 


364  LIFE   OF   THE  [1807. 

I  have  seen,  and  it  is,  indeed,  as  perspicuous  as  any 
philosophical  book  can  be. 

"  6th. — Rested  at  the  handsome  and  hospitable  house 
of  Mr.  Bell,  of  Dermapatan,  near  Tellicherry. 

"  7th. — Go  to  Mahe",  the  former  French  settlement — 
breakfast  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Strachey,  a  clever  and 
gentlemanlike  man. 

"  —  Return  to  dinner  to  Mr.  Bell's.  Mr.  Hodgson, 
returning  from  his  circuit,  comes  in  after  dinner,  full  of 
humour  and  mirth." 

On  the  next  day  Sir  James  left  his  hospitable  host's 
abode,  on  a  journey  to  Madras.  Having  paid  an  interest- 
ing visit  to  that  Presidency,  he  returned  to  Tellicherry, 
and  from  thence  he  again  embarked  for  Bombay,  where 
he  arrived  on  Christmas-eve,  after  an  absence  of  three 
months. 

"  I  accordingly  left  Lady  M.,"  he  writes,  alluding  to 
this  rapid  excursion  across  the  peninsula,  "  and  went  in 
my  palankeen  through  the  awfully  grand  forests  and 
mountains  of  Malabar  and  Coorg,  (which,  if  they  were 
within  reach  of  picturesque  travellers,  would  be  classed 
with  Switzerland,)  to  Mysore,  near  Seringapatam.  Em- 
boldened by  my  success,  I  ventured,  after  some  days' 
repose,  to  run  down  to  Madras.  I  passed  six  days  there, 
and  seven  going  and  returning  to  Mysore,  and  was  back 
again  at  the  ship  exactly  a  month  after  I  had  left  the 
coast  of  Malabar,  having  travelled  over  about  a  thousand 
miles.  The  exterior  of  Madras  is  very  striking.  I  doubt 
whether  there  be  any  town  in  Europe,  north  of  the  Alps, 
which  can  boast  such  a  diffusion  of  architectural  elegance. 
There  are  probably  no  three  kingdoms  which  differ  more 
in  every  respect,  than  the  three  provinces  of  Malabar, 


1807.]  RIGHT   HON.   SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  365 

Mysore,  and  the  Carnatic,  over  which  I  ran.  Malabar 
is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  countries  in  the  world,  in- 
habited by  fierce  and  high-spirited  mountaineers.  Mysore 
is  a  high  and  naked  region,  peopled  by  a  martial,  but 
industrious,  race  of  husbandmen.  The  Carnatic  is  a 
boundless  plain  of  sand,  covered  with  the  monuments  of 
ancient  cultivation  and  civilisation,  and  still  successfully 
cultivated  by  polished  and  ingenious  slaves.  All  this 
variety  of  objects,  natural  and  moral,  amused  me  much; 
and  I  cannot  say  whether,  even  at  Paris,  I  crowded  more 
life  into  a  month,  than  I  did  during  this  excursion." 


31* 


366  LIFE    OF    THE  [1808. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

MARRIAGE  AND  NOTICE  OF  MR.  RICH LETTERS  TO  MR.  HALL TO  MR.  HOPPNER 

—  TO   MR.   WHISHAW —  TO   DR.  8AYERS  —  TO   PROFESSOR    OGILVIE — TO    LORD 

HOLLAND TOME.    SCARLETT JOURNAL LETTERS   TO  PROFESSOR  SMTTH 

TO    MR.    RICH  —  TO     MRS.    JOHN     TAYLOR  —  TO     MR.     CHARLES    BUTLER  —  TO 
GENERAL    MALCOLM. 

THE  new  year  opened  joyfully  with  the  celebration 
(Jan.  22nd)  of  the  marriage  of  his  eldest  daughter,  which 
he  soon  after  thus  announces  to  a  friend: — "You  may 
recollect,  perhaps,  to  have  read  in  the  newspapers  in  1803, 
that  Mr.  Parry,  the  present  Chairman,  gave  a  writership 
here  to  a  young  man  of  the  name  of  Rich,  merely  on  Mr. 
Wilkins's  report  of  his  extraordinary  proficiency  in  Eastern 
languages,  without  interest,  and,  I  believe,  without  even 
personal  knowledge.  He  came  out  as  assistant  to  young 
Lock,  who  was  appointed  Consul  at  Alexandria,  and 
since  his  death  has  travelled  over  the  greater  part  of 
Turkish  Asia,  in  various  directions,  with  the  eye  and 
pencil  of  an  artist,  and  with  the  address  and  courage 
of  a  traveller  among  barbarians.  He  acquired  such  a 
mastery  over  the  languages  and  manners  of  the  East, 
that  he  personated  a  Georgian  Turk  for  several  weeks  at 
Damascus,  amidst  several  thousand  pilgrims,  on  their 
road  to  Mecca,  completely  unsuspected  by  the  most 
vigilant  and  fiercest  Musselman  bigotry.  He  was  recom- 
mended to  me  by  my  friend,  Robert  Hall,  and  I  had 
several  letters  from  him.  I  invited  him  to  my  house, 
and  at  his  arrival  in  this  island,  on  the  1st  of  September, 
1807,  he  came  to  us. 

"He   far  surpassed  our  expectations,  and  we  soon 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  367 

considered  his  wonderful  Oriental  attainments  as  the  least 
part  of  his  merit.  I  found  him  a  fair  classical  scholar, 
and  capable  of  speaking  and  writing  French  and  Italian 
like  the  best  educated  native.  With  the  strongest  recom- 
mendations of  appearance  and  manner,  he  joined  every 
elegant  accomplishment,  and  every  manly  exercise ;  and 
combined  with  them,  spirit,  pleasantry,  and  feeling.  His 
talents  and  attainments  delighted  me  so  much,  that  I 
resolved  to  make  him  a  philosopher ;  I  even  thought  him 
worthy  of  being  introduced  into  the  temple  of  Wisdom, 
by  our  friend,  Dugald  Stewart:  and  when  I  went  to 
Malabar,  I  left  him  at  the  house  of  my  philosophical 
friend  Erskine,  busily  engaged  with  the  '  Philosophy  of 
the  Human  Mind.'  On  my  return,  I  found  that  this 
pupil  in  philosophy  was  desirous  to  become  my  son-in-law. 
He  has  no  fortune,  nor  had  he  then  even  an  appointment ; 
but  you  will  not  doubt  that  I  willingly  consented  to  his 
marriage  with  my  eldest  daughter,  in  whom  he  had  the 
sagacity  to  discover,  and  the  virtue  to  value,  the  plain 
sense,  modesty,  purity,  and  good-nature,  which  will,  I 
hope,  make  her  a  source  of  happiness  to  him  during  life. 

"  Soon  after,  the  most  urgent  necessities  of  the  public 
called  for  a  Resident  at  Bagdad.  He  alone  was  univer- 
sally acknowledged  to  be  qualified  for  the  station.  He 
was  appointed  :  having  thus  twice,  before  he  was  twenty- 
four,  commanded  promotion  by  mere  merit.  They  were 
married,  and  are  gone  to  Bagdad." 

The  establishment  of  this  connexion  recalled  probably 
to  Sir  James's  thoughts  the  far-distant  and  suffering  friend, 
to  whose  introduction  he  had  been  originally  indebted 
for  the  acquaintance  of  his  new  son-in-law.  A  letter 
to  Mr.  Hall  is  the  first  of  a  small  selection  that  follows 
from  the  "  thirty-six  letters  to  Europe,"  which  we  find 
him,  in  his  journal,  confessing  to  have  written  in  less  than 
a  month. 


368  LIFE   OF   THE  [1808. 


TO   THE   KEV.   EGBERT   HALL. 

Bombay,  18th  February,  1808. 

"Mr  DEAR  HALL,  —  It  is  now  some  time  since  I 
received  yours  of  the  20th  of  July,  1806,  from  Leicester, 
and  I  assure  you  that  I  do  not  think  myself  in  the  least 
entitled  to  that  praise  of  disinterestedness  which  you 
bestow  on  me,  for  wishing  to  correspond  with  you.  The 
strength  of  your  genius  would,  in  all  common  circum- 
stances, have  made  you  a  most  desirable  correspondent ; 
and  the  circumstances  which  now  limit  your  mental 
excursions,  give  to  your  correspondence  attractions  of  a 
very  peculiar  nature.  Both  the  subject  and  the  tone 
of  our  letters  are  probably  almost  unexampled.  I  have 
trusted  enough  to  speak  of  what  perhaps  no  friend  ever 
dared  to  touch  before ;  and  you  justify  my  confidence,  by 
contemplating,  with  calm  superiority,  that  from  which  the 
firmest  men  have  recoiled.  That  the  mind  of  a  good 
man  may  approach  independence  of  external  things,  is  a 
truth  which  no  one  ever  doubted,  who  was  worthy  to 
understand ;  but  you  perhaps  afford  the  first  example  of 
the  moral  nature  looking  on  the  understanding  itself  as 
something  that  is  only  the  first  of  its  instruments.  I 
cannot  think  of  this  without  a  secret  elevation  of  soul, 
not  unattended,  I  hope,  with  improvement.  You  are, 
perhaps,  the  first  who  has  reached  this  superiority.  With 
so  fine  an  understanding,  you  have  the  humility  to  con- 
sider its  disturbance  as  a  blessing,  as  far  as  it  improves 
your  moral  system.  The  same  principles,  however,  lead 
you  to  keep  every  instrument  of  duty  and  usefulness  in 
repair ;  and  the  same  habits  of  feeling  will  afford  you  the 
best  chance  of  doing  so. 

"  We  are  all  accustomed  to  contemplate  with  pleasure 
the  suspension  of  the  ordinary  operations  of  the  under- 


1808.]  EIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  369 

standing  in  sleep,  and  to  be  even  amused  by  its  nightly 
wanderings  from  its  course  in  dreams.  From  the  com- 
manding eminence  which  you  have  gained,  you  will 
gradually  familiarise  your .  mind,  to  consider  its  other 
aberrations  as  only  more  rare  than  sleep  or  dreams ;  and 
in  process  of  time  they  will  cease  to  appear  to  you  much 
more  horrible.  You  will  thus  be  delivered  from  that 
constant  dread  which  so  often  brings  on  the  very  evil 
dreaded ;  and  which,  as  it  clouds  the  whole  of  human 
life,  is  itself  a  greater  calamity  than  any  temporary  dis- 
ease. Some  dread  of  this  sort  darkened  the  days  of  John- 
son ;  and  the  fears  of  Eousseau  seem  to  have  constantly 
realised  themselves.  But  whoever  has  brought  himself  to 
consider  a  disease  of  the  brain  as  differing  only  in  degree 
from  a  disease  of  the  lungs,  has  robbed  it  of  that  mysterious 
horror  which  forms  its  chief  malignity.  If  he  were  to  do 
this  by  undervaluing  intellect,  he  would  indeed  gain  only 
a  low  quiet  at  the  expense  of  mental  dignity.  But  you 
do  it  by  feeling  the  superiority  of  a  moral  nature  over  in- 
tellect itself.  All  your  unhappiness  has  arisen  from  your 
love  and  pursuit  of  excellence.  Disappointed  in  the  pur- 
suit of  union  with  real  or  supposed  excellence  of  a  limited 
sort,  you  sought  refuge  in  the  contemplation  of  the  Su- 
preme Excellence.  But,  by  the  conflict  of  both,  your 
mind  was  torn  in  pieces ;  and  even  your  most  powerful 
understanding  was  unable  to  resist  the  force  of  your  still 
more  powerful  moral  feelings. 

"  The  remedy  is  prescribed  by  the  plainest  maxims  of 
duty.  You  must  act :  inactive  contemplation  is  a  danger- 
ous condition  for  minds  of  profound  moral  sensibility. 
We  are  not  to  dream  away  our  lives  in  the  contemplation 
of  distant  or  imaginary  perfection.  We  are  to  act  in  an 
imperfect  and  corrupt  world ;  and  we  must  only  contem- 
plate perfection  enough  to  ennoble  our  natures,  but  not 
to  make  us  dissatisfied  and  disgusted  with  these  faint 


370  LIFE    OF    THE  [1808. 

approaches  to  that  perfection,  which  it  would  be  the 
nature  of  a  brute  or  a  demon  to  despise.  It  is  for  this 
reason  that  I  exhort  you  to  literary  activity.  It  is  not  as 
the  road  of  ambition,  but  of  duty,  and  as  the  means  of 
usefulness,  and  the  resource  against  disease.  It  is  an 
exercise  necessary  to  your  own  health,  and  by  which  you 
directly  serve  others.  If  I  were  to  advise  any  new  study, 
it  would  be  that  of  anatomy,  physiology,  and  medicine ; 
as,  besides  their  useful  occupation,  they  would  naturally 
lead  to  that  cool  view  of  all  diseases,  which  disarms  them 
of  their  blackest  terrors.  Though  I  should  advise  these 
studies  and  that  of  chemistry,  I  am  so  far  from  counselling 
an  entire  divorce  from  your  ancient  contemplations,  that 
I  venture  to  recommend  to  you  the  spiritual  Letters  of 
Fenelon.  I  even  entreat  you  to  read  and  re-read  them. 

"  I  shall  also  take  the  liberty  of  earnestly  recommend- 
ing to  you  to  consult  Dr.  Beddoes*  in  the  most  unreserved 
manner  on  every  part  of  your  case,  and  to  be  implicitly 
guided  by  his  counsels  in  every  part  of  your  ordinary 
conduct.  I  have  more  confidence  in  him  than  in  all  the 
other  physicians  in  England ;  and  I  am  not  ignorant  on 
the  subject  of  medicine.  Total  abstinence  from  fer- 
mented liquor  is  obviously  necessary ;  and  I  should  think 
it  best  to  relinquish  coffee  and  tea,  which  liquors  I  think 
you  sometimes  drank  to  excess. 

"  May  you,  my  dear  friend,  who  have  so  much  of  the 
genius  of  Tasso  and  Cowper,  in  future  escape  their  mis- 
fortunes— the  calamities  incident  to  tender  sensibility,  to 
grand  enthusiasm,  to  sublime  genius,  and  to  intense 
exertion  of  intellect. 

"  Rich,  whom  you  recommended  to  me,  is  become  my 
son-in-law ;  and  he  is  indeed  a  son-in-law  to  whom  the 
fondest  parent  may  gladly  entrust  his  child. 

"  As  far  as  the  confusion  of  the  world  allows  me  to 
*  The  late  Thomas  Beddoes,  M.  D.  of  Bristol. 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  371 

form  plans,  my  residence  here  must  still  be  for  three  or 
four  years.  I  have  often  thought  that  it  would  be  more 
unreasonable  in  appearance  than  reality,  if  you  were  to 
come  and  live  with  us.  We  live  in  great  retirement;  and 
when  we  are  forced  to  see  company,  our  house  is  so  large 
as  to  afford  you  abundant  asylum  from  their  intrusion. 
You  would  improve  us,  and  we  might  help  cheerfulness 
to  steal  upon  you. 

"  I  have  done  what  I  can  to  support  and  countenance 
the  missionaries :  but  they  are  in  an  enemy's  country,  and 
their  visible  means  of  success  are  certainly  not  great.  I 
have  read,  with  the  greatest  admiration,  the  '  Essays '  of 
Mr.  Foster,  whom,  perhaps,  you  know.  He  is  one  of  the 
most  profound  and  eloquent  writers  that  England  has  pro- 
duced. Why  do  you  not  give  me  an  object  for  greater 
admiration  in  a  work  of  yours  ? 

"Write  to  me  soon.    Mention  your  most  safe  and  per- 
manent address.     What  is  the  name  of  your  sister? 
"  Yours  ever, 

"JAMES  MACKINTOSH." 

TO  JOHN  HOPPNER,  ESQ. 

"Bombay,  February  19th,  1808. 

"My  DEAR  SIR,  —  I  am  really  ashamed  to  see  unan- 
swered on  my  table  such  a  letter  as  yours,  dated  so  long 
ago  as  the  15th  January,  1806.  If  I  had  waited  in  hopes 
of  being  able  to  repay  you  in  kind,  I  must  never  have 
answered  you. 

"  I  certainly  do  not  assent  to  the  unqualified  commen- 
dations bestowed  on  Payne  Knight.  He  is  a  powerful 
and  coarse  rebel,  who  makes  some  formidable  attacks  on 
the  laws  and  government  of  philosophical  criticism,  but 
he  will  not,  I  think,  subvert  them,  nor  has  he  a  mind  to 
establish  others  in  their  stead.  He  mistakes  the  sense  in 
which  the  word  <  terror '  is  employed  by  Mr.  Burke.  If 


372  LIFE   OF   THE  [1808. 

that  word  were  used  in  its  common  sense,  to  denote  the 
mental  emotion  produced  by  terrible  objects,  it  would 
obviously  be  absurd  to  say,  that  it  is  the  source  of  the 
sublime.  But  it  is  used  by  Mr.  Burke  for  the  terrible; 
and  I  understand  him  to  assert  that  terrible  objects  and 
ideas,  in  a  degree  lower  than  that  in  ivhich  they  produce  terror } 
inspire  the  mind  with  the  emotion  of  sublimity.  In 
other  words  that  the  sublime  is  a  reduced  or  mitigated 
terrific.  Experience  at  once  shows  that  this  is  generally 
true.  The  only  question  is,  whether  it  be  universally 
true  ?  But  that  is  not  the  question  which  Mr.  Payne 
Knight  discussed. 

"We  have  been  reading  with  great  delight  the  Mas- 
singer  of  our  friend  Gifford.  If  he  had  only  discovered 
the  secret  of  a  style  that  will  never  grow  old,  he  would 
have  deserved  every  praise  of  editorship.  The  union  of 
the  grandest  moral  purity  with  the  rankness  of  the  stews, 
and  with  more  than  Germanic  horrors  (as  in  the  '  Unna- 
tural Combat'),  is  a  most  extraordinary  phenomenon. 
I  wish  you  could  prevail  on  our  friend  Gifford  to  do  two 
good  things,  to  become  a  correspondent  of  mine,  and  to 
be  oftener  an  author,  and  less  frequently  an  editor  and 
translator. 

"I  find  from  Mr.  Shee's  poem,*  which,  among  other 
merits,  pays  you  a  deserved  compliment,  that  there  are 
people  dull  enough  to  excuse  the  public  discouragement 
of  English  art,  upon  the  principles  of  the  liberty  of  trade. 
Now  I  humbly  think  that  those  who  will  be  dull,  are 
bound  at  least  to  be  accurate.  The  government  of  every 
country  expends  part  of  the  public  revenue  on  luxury 
and  show.  The  government  is  the  greatest  proprietor 
and  the  greatest  consumer  in  the  country.  When  they 
employ  a  considerable  part  of  this  ornamental  expense  in 
building,  or  in  purchasing  statues  and  pictures,  they 
*  "  Rhymes  on  Art" 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  373 

encourage  the  fine  arts  as  proprietors  do,  when  they  have 
the  good  taste  to  spend  part  of  their  income  in  the  same 
manner.  The  word  patronage  is  a  mere  fallacy.  It  is 
as  customers  that  they  encourage  the  arts;  and  the  ques- 
tion is,  whether  any  art,  liberal  or  mechanical,  will  flourish 
most  when  the  man,  or  body,  of  the  largest  income  in  a 
country,  does,  or  does  not,  consume  or  purchase  so  much 
of  the  produce  of  that  art?  This,  surely,  is  no  question 
at  all.  Still,  however,  the  argument  is  not  complete. 
When  government  disappears  from  the  market  as  a  pur- 
chaser, the  arts  suffer  much  more  than  the  mere  amount 
of  money  or  honour  withdrawn;  for  no  other  customer 
will  employ  the  arts  in  undertakings,  which  so  much  im- 
prove or  ennoble  them.  Indeed  other  customers  rather 
naturally  employ  them  in  such  a  way,  as  leads  to  their 
degradation  and  corruption.  Private  individuals  tempt 
the  painter  to  portrait,  the  sculptor  to  the  monuments  of 
insignificant  persons,  the  architect  to  mere  accommoda- 
tion and  comfort.  The  subjects  which  the  government 
presents  to  the  artist,  whether  political  or  religious,  are 
public,  and  therefore  fitted  to  excite  genius,  both  by  their 
own  grandeur,  and  by  the  widely  diffused  fame  which 
attends  success.  They  are  generally  guided  by  some 
sort  of  public  taste,  which  is  a  safer  guide  than  the  caprices 
of  wealthy  individuals,  of  which  the  artist  is  in  other  cases 
the  slave.  Architecture,  for  instance,  can  hardly  exist 
as  a  grand  art,  as  long  as  it  is  limited  to  mere  private 
utility.  Temples  and  palaces  are  the  forms  in  which 
architectural  genius  is  embodied. 

"  The  best  condition,  therefore,  for  the  arts,  is  where 
the  state,  the  most  useful  customer,  is  rich,  and  profuse  in 
expending  its  income  on  works  of  art;  and  where  few 
individuals  are  wealthy  enough  to  be  rival  customers.  It 
was  thus  in  Ancient  Greece  and  Modern  Italy.  In  the 
first,  patriotism  and  religion — in  the  second,  religion 

VOL.  i.  32 


374  LIFE    OF    THE  [1808. 

alone,  took  the  arts  into  their  service,  and  rescued  them 
from  the  bondage  of  individual  caprice.  Both  these 
causes — the  want  of  elegant  expenditure  in  the  govern- 
ment, and  the  enormous  wealth  of  so  many  private  per- 
sons—  are  obstacles  which  English  genius  has  to  encounter. 
That  the  non-patronage  of  government  is  useful,  or  even 
harmless  to  the  fine  arts,  is  much  as  if  it  were  to  be  said, 
that  an  agreement  not  to  wear  woollens,  entered  into  by 
all  men  of  fortune,  would  be  useful  or  even  harmless  to 
the  manufacture  of  broad  cloth.  The  quantity  painted, 
or  weaved,  must  be  less,  and  the  quality  must  be  coarser, 
to  adapt  it  to  the  demand  of  inferior  customers. 

"But  I  abuse  your  patience.  I  have  no  politics  to 
write  from  this  country.  My  letter  would  be  a  year 
(which  now  means  a  century)  behind  hand  with  your 
politics,  when  it  arrived ;  for  we  are  now  eight  months 
without  a  syllable  of  news. 

"  Why  did  you  not  send  me  your  tales  ?  The  only 
recompense  you  can  make  me  for  this  slight  is  by  writing 
more,  which  I  shall  certainly  procure  whether  you  send 
them  or  no. 

a  Lady  M.  joins  me  in  the  hope  that,  bad  as  the  times 
and  prospects  are,  we  shall  yet  give  you  a  petit  souper 
in  London.  "I  am,  my  dear  Sir, 

"  Most  truly  yours, 

"  JAMES  MACKINTOSH." 

TO   JOHN   WfflSHAW,  ESQ. 

"•Bombay,  20th  Feb.,  1808. 

"MY  DEAR  WHISHAW, — After  reperusing  such  a  rational 
account,  as  yours,  of  the  difficulties  which  attended  the 
late  administration,  I  feel  excessively  the  want  of  an 
equally  clear  statement  of  the  causes  and  circumstances 
of  their  fall.  I  scarcely  think  it  possible  that  we  can 
now  differ  materially  on  any  political  matter.  To  every 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  375 

part  of  your  letter  I  assent  entirely.  I  consider  the  late 
ministers  as  the  most  deserving  in  the  reign  of  George  III, 
and  the  worst  used  in  the  history  of  England.  All  above 
and  below  them  conspired  against  them,  and  betrayed 
them.  We  saw  all  the  governments  of  India  in  opposi- 
tion, and  we  can  easily  imagine  that  all  the  inferior 
agents  in  Europe  must  have  been  really  so  too.  Circum- 
stances compelled  them  to  be  too  democratical  for  the 
permanence  of  their  own  power,  and  yet  not  democratical 
enough,  I  will  not  say,  for  the  demands  of  sanguine  men, 
but  for  what,  in  the  present  circumstances,  I  think  the 
only  chance  of  safety  for  the  country.  I  fear  there  is 
another  cause  of  unpopularity.  The  physicians  of  a  dying 
patient  will  generally  be  blamed :  they  never  will  be 
applauded,  whatever  skill  they  may  show,  and  they  will 
generally  be  made  answerable  for  the  incurable  nature  of 
the  disease.  The  common  course  is,  that  the  patient  is 
tossed  from  quack  to  quack,  each  beginning  with  fair 
promises  and  sanguine  hopes,  followed  by  speedy  disap- 
pointment and  angry  dismissal.  To  drop  this  allusion 
to  my  old  studies,  I  really  do  not  see  any  hope  for  us ; 
and  I  look  to  a  succession,  or  a  descending  series  of 
administrations,  each  surpassing  the  other  in  impudent 
undertaking  and  shameful  failure,  and  all  squabbling 
like  drunken  sailors  when  the  ship  is  about  to  go  to 
pieces. 

"  Wonderful  as  every  thing  has  been  since  the  French 
revolution,  the  last  four  years  exhibit  a  scene  different 
from  any  of  the  preceding,  and  wholly  unexampled  in 
history — that  of  conquests,  as  extensive  and  as  rapid  as 
those  of  Genghiz  or  Timur,  made  over  the  most  civilised 
and  warlike  nations  of  the  world.  Civilised  nations  have 
been  before  so  conquered,  but  they  were  unwarlike,  and 
warlike  nations,  but  they  were  uncivilised.  The  union 
is  perfectly  new.  Germany  is,  for  the  first  time,  con- 


376  LIFE    OF   THE  [1808. 

quered  •  and  after  the  conquest  of  Germany,!  see  nothing 
to  prevent  the  establishment  of  a  literally  universal  mo- 
narchy. Favourable  accidents  must  always  be  excluded ; 
but  except  that  chance,  what  source  of  comfort  is  there 
around  you  ?  It  seems  now  not  very  unlikely  that  India 
will  be  the  first  part  of  the  British  empire  that  will  become 
a  province  of  the  new  empire  of  the  world.  We  hear  of 
French  armies  advancing  towards  Persia,  though,  as  we 
are  now  eight  months  without  news  from  Europe,  we 
know  nothing  accurately.  The  last  event  we  know  is 
the  peace  of  Tilsit,  in  which  Alexander  has  put  the  seal 
to  the  slavery  of  the  West ;  and  has  shown  that  he  has  as 
little  generous  despair  in  adversity,  as  he  has  too  much 
presumptuous  giddiness  in  rushing  into  perilous  enter- 
prises. The  fate  of  nations  seems  for  a  time  too  nearly 
decided  to  leave  much  anxiety ;  except  about  the  sooner 
or  later,  which '  are  great  to  little  men.'  But  the  fortune 
and  character  of  individuals  continue  to  interest. 

"I  was  delighted  with  the  rejection  of  Sharp  from  the 
committee,*  which  will,  I  hope,  rouse  his  strength ;  and 
I  was  highly  pleased  indeed,  with  the  last  act  of  Lord 
Henry  Petty  at  Cambridge,  in  securing  the  comfort,  and 
rewarding  the  merits  of  our  amiable  and  accomplished 
friend  Smyth.f  The  versatility  (shall  I  call  it  by  no  worse 
name  ?)  of  the  University  did  not  surprise  me.  But  if  I 
were  the  King,  I  should  see  in  it  the  seeds  of  a  congra- 
tulatory address  to  the  founder  of  the  Gallo-Corsican 
dynasty  at  London,  whoever  he  may  be. 

"I  have  heard  much  of  impudence,  and  I  thought 
that  I  knew  its  utmost  limits ;  but  the  attack  on  Dugald 

*  Of  Finance,  on  its  renewal  in  the  new  Parliament. 

f  Alluding  to  that  gentleman's  appointment  to  the  chair  of  Modern 
History,  which  he  has  since  so  much  adorned.  The  University  had  not 
been  anxious  to  secure,  in  the  new  Parliament,  the  representative  ser- 
vices of  an  Ex-Minister. 


1808.]  BIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  377 

Stewart's  scanty  and  tardy  provision,*  by  the  friends  of 
,  proves  to  me  that  I  was  mistaken. 

#  *  #  # 

"  Ever,  dear  Whishaw, 
"  Yours, 

"JAMES  MACKINTOSH." 

TO  DR.  F.  SAYERS,  NORWICH. 

"  Bombay,  26th  February,  1808. 

"Mr  DEAR  SAYERS, — I  really  know  not  whether  you 
now  deserve  a  letter.  You  still  loiter  in  the  close  after 
Windham  has  left  it.  Remember  the  fate  of  those  fat 
Tories  who  remained  in  Sodom  after  Lot  had  gone  forth. 
I  know  that  you  may  perhaps  express  some  doubt  both 
of  the  obesity  and  toryism  of  these  victims.  On  that 
subject,  however,  I  refer  you  to  Rabli  WilliamJd  ben  Tay- 
lorTd's  very  curious  annotations  on  the  Chaldee  Targum. 
The  translation  itself  affords  internal  evidence  of  their 
condition.  If  they  had  not  been  so  fat  they  would  not 
have  been  too  lazy  to  make  their  escape ;  and  if  they 
had  not  been  Tories,  they  would  not  have  submitted  to 
the  punishment,  with  such  passive  obedience  and  non- 
resistance. 

"  But  you  say  you  are  a  Tory  to  preserve  the  inde- 
pendence and  constitution  of  your  country.  Now  let  me 
beg  you  to  consider  what  is  the  single  danger  which,  by 
the  confession  of  all  men,  now  threatens  both.  Surely 
foreign  conquest  and  no  other.  Now,  at  least,  you  can 
have  no  democracy  to  dread.  Now,  it  never  has  been 
doubted  that  democracies  have  a  stronger  principle  of 
temporary  defence  than  any  other  government.  Nothing 
but  democracy  could  have  resisted  Xerxes.  The  mul- 

"That  eminent  man  had  accepted,  at  the  hands  of  his  political 
friends,  whilst  lately  in  office,  the  trifling  post  of  gazette-writer  for 
Scotland ;  which  appointment  had  been  canvassed  in  Parliament. 

32* 


378  LIFE    OF   THE  [1808. 

titude  are  not  always  good  judges  of  their  own  real 
interests ;  but  their  pride  and  passions  are  more  easily 
inflamed  to  fanaticism  in  defence  of  what  is  called  their 
own  power,  than  of  what  professes  to  be  the  power  of 
others.  Surely  the  enthusiasm  of  the  multitude  for  their 
government  is  the  best  security  against  foreign  conquest, 
other  circumstances  being  equal.  Observe,  I  don't  say 
that  the  citizens  of  a  democracy  will  fight  best,  because 
they  have  the  greatest  happiness  to  defend ;  I  say  that 
they  fight  best  because  they  fight  for  a  government, 
which,  whatever  effect  it  may  have  on  their  interest, 
flatters  their  pride  and  kindles  their  passions.  Prudence 
is  a  very  cold  principle,  much  too  faint-hearted  for  the 
day  of  battle  ;  indeed,  it  never  can  be  prudent  for  a  man 
to  die;  but  pride  and  ambition  are  not 'so  lukewarm, 
and  men  die  very  readily  in  their  service.  Certainly, 
therefore,  the  principles  of  Whiggism  are  those  which 
afford  the  most  tolerable  security  against  the  present 
danger;  and  the  true  inference  from  the  greatness  of 
the  danger  seems  to  be,  that  they  may  be  wisely  carried 
to  what,  in  other  times,  would  be  excess.  At  the  same 
time  I  must  frankly  confess,  that  I  myself  consider  all 
precautions  as  too  late,  and  all  securities  as  too  weak. 
Our  doom,  and  that  of  the  world,  seems  to  me  irrevocable. 
A  man  may  therefore  follow  the  point  of  honour  of  his 
faction,  without  much  bettering  or  injuring  the  chances 
of  his  country.  But  his  conduct  may  be  peculiarly 
absurd,  even  after  the  public  fortunes  have  become  so 
desperate,  that  it  almost  ceases  to  be  mischievous.  And 
this  is,  I  think,  most  evidently  true  of  all  Toryism  at 
present  in  England. 

"When  I  was  at  Madras  in  November,  I  begged  a 
copy  of  your  t  Miscellanies,'  &c.  from  Charles  Marsh,* 

*  Charles  Marsh,  Esq.  who  had  formerly  travelled  the  Norfolk  cir- 
cuit— then  a  practising  Barrister  at  Madras. 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  379 

who  is  flourishing  there.  I  read  it  in  my  palankeen,  as  I 
was  carried  along,  on  the  morning  of  the  30th  November, 
from  Conjeveram  to  Arcot ;  where  neither  Edgar  Athe- 
ling,  nor  Edmund  Mortimer  ever  dreamt  that  their 
history  would  be  read.  I  was  much  pleased  with  the 
two  Essays  on  the  History  of  English  Poetry,  and 
Architecture.  It  had  before  struck  me  that  our  meta- 
physical poets  were  a  colony  from  the  school  of  Marini. 
Johnson  knew  nothing  of  this,  because  he  was  little  more 
than  an  English  reader. 

"  Your  sketch  of  the  Progress  of  Architecture,  well 
deserves  to  be  enlarged  into  a  complete  history.  This 
cannot  be  well  done  by  one  who  confines  his  views  to 
England  alone.  The  same  changes  in  the  mode  of 
building  occurred  in  the  other  European  countries,  and 
they  seem  even  to  have  occurred  (in  some  cases  certainly) 
more  early  in  Italy,  if  not  in  France,  than  in  England. 
I  must  therefore  object  to  the  terms  Saxon,  Norman, 
and  still  more,  English  Architecture,  which  convey  the 
idea  of  modes  of  building  peculiar  to  our  island,  and  not, 
as  the  truth  was,  common  to  all  Christendom.  If  it 
would  be  absurd  to  caU  the  Cathedrals  of  Strasburg  and 
Milan  specimens  of  Norman,  and  still  more,  of  English 
architecture,  it  must  be  equally  true,  though  not  equally 
obvious,  that  these  epithets  ought  not  to  be  applied  to 
King's  Chapel,  or  Henry  the  Seventh's  Chapel.  Enlarge 
your  Sketch  then  into  a  handsome  volume,  with  the 
plates  strictly  necessary  for  illustration,  and  at  every 
period,  compare  the  style  of  English  building  with  the 
contemporary  fashion  of  the  continent.  This  may  be 
collected  from  prints  to  be  seen  in  all  great  libraries, 
without  the  fatigue  and  risk  of  a  tour  through  the 
Corsican  empire.  You  must  not  neglect  Payne  Knight's 
most  ingenious  observations,  in  his  unequal,  though 
extraordinary,  book. 


380  LIFE   OF   THE  [1808. 

"Lady  M.  thanks  you  for  Fairfax*,  which  we  both 
agree  is  the  best,  and  perhaps  the  only  good  poetical 
translation  in  English,  perfectly  idiomatic  and  harmo- 
nious, and  yet  faithful  to  the  sense  and  manner  of  the 
original.  Notwithstanding  the  bad  times,  she  still  hopes 
to  have  a  laugh  with  you ;  and  if  you  are  an  incorrigible 
Gomorrah  patriot,  we  shall  even  venture  into  the  close  for 
that  gratification. 

"  Farewell,  my  dear  Sayers.     Believe  me  ever, 
"  Yours,  truly, 

"JAMES  MACKINTOSH." 

An  old  Aberdeen  friend,  Mr.  Ogilvie,  Professor  of 
Humanity  at  King's  College,  had,  in  a  letter  already 
alluded  to,  touched  upon  topics,  which  every  arrival 
of  news  from  Europe  tended  to  invest  with  deeper 
interest. 

"  I  do  not  suppose,"  says  the  Professor,  "  that  you,  any 
more  than  myself,  have  embraced  the  philosophy  of  com- 
mon sense,  as  it  has  been  called,  in  all  its  latitude ;  but 
surely  Dr.  Reid's  eminence  in  various  sciences,  and  his 
successful  endeavours  to  throw  light  on  that  which  he 
cultivated,  cannot  have  escaped  your  notice,  any  more 
than  the  merits  of  the  ( Vindicise  GallicaB '  escaped  him. 
Mrs.  Carmichael,  his  surviving  daughter,  at  whose  request 
I  take  the  liberty  of  giving  you  this  trouble,  informs  me 
that  he  was  struck  with  admiration  on  reading  that 
Essay,  and  used  frequently  to  speak  of  it  as  one  of 
the  most  ingenious  works  of  the  kind  he  had  ever 
met  with. 

"Alas!  how  are  our  prospects  changed  since  those 
fair  days  of  hope  and  sanguine  speculation!  I  trust, 
however,  you  have  not  desponded :  I  have  not.  From 

*  Dr.  S.  had  presented  her  a  copy  of  Fairfax's  Tasso. 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR    JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  381 

the  very  first,  I  regarded  the  high  fermentation  of  the 
French  nation  with  a  mixed  sentiment  of  joy  and  of 
dread.  I  felt  like  the  poet,  looking  on  the  great  move- 
ments in  the  frame  of  nature, 

'  Hiis  ibi  me  rebus  quaedam  divina  voluptas 
Percipit,  atque  horror  ; ' 

and,  even1  now  that  those  former  labours  seem  to  have 
subsided  in  the  dregs  of  mere  despotism,  I  still  cherish 
the  hope  of  some  favourable  result  —  some  valuable  and 
permanent,  though  but  moderate,  improvement ;  —  some 
fortunate  establishment,  that  shall  succeed  these  storms, 
as  our  revolution  in  1688  succeeded  the  civil  wars.  I 
even  build  some  hopes  on  the  transcendent  talents  of 
Buonaparte.  It  is  impossible  for  me  to  believe  that  this 
child  and  champion  of  popular  rights,  so  endowed  by 
nature,  formed,  as  we  are  told,  on  the  best  ancient 
models,  and  tinctured  with  the  sublime  melancholy  of 
Ossian,  can  prove  ultimately  unfaithful  to  the  glorious 
cause,  the  idol  of  his  youth." 

Mr.  Ogilvie,  with  a  generous  ardour,  then  offers  to 
communicate  to  Sir  James  some  observations  on  property 
in  land,  which  he  imagines  may  probably  be  applicable  to 
India,  and  tend  to  improve  the  condition  of  the  natives 
of  that  country. 

TO    WILLIAM    OGILVIE,   ESQ.    ABERDEEN. 

"Bombay,  Feb.  24,  1808. 

"My  DEAR  SIR, —  That  I  have  not  sooner  answered 
your  letter,  by  Mr.  Rose,  in  the  beginning  of  1805,  has 
not  been  owing  to  any  insensibility  to  the  value  of  that 
mark  of  your  remembrance.  On  the  contrary  I  assure 
you,  that  after  repeated  perusals,  that  letter  has  not  yet 
lost  its  power  of  producing  strong  emotions  in  my  mind, 


382  LIFE    OF   THE  [1808. 

such  as  are  naturally  excited  by  the  generous  spirit 
which  it  breathes,  and  by  that  union  of  elegance  with 
energy,  which  so  much  distinguishes  it.  At  the  distance 
of  twenty-five  years,  I  recognise  your  unabated  fervour 
and  vigour  :  I  call  to  mind  the  energy,  which  first  roused 
and  directed  my  own  infant  powers,  and  I  feel  myself 
most  warmly  disposed 

'  To  bless  the  place,  where  on  the  opening  soul 
First  the  sacred  ardour  stole.' 

"  With  these  feelings,  you  may  do  me  the  justice  to 
believe,  that  I  should  have  gratified  myself  by  rendering 
service  to  the  nephew  of  Dr.  Reid,  whose  philosophy, 
like  you,  I  do  not  embrace,  but  whose  character  and 
talents  every  cultivator  of  science  must  venerate.  *  * 

"I  admire  the  intrepid  spirit  which  supports  you 
against  political  despondence,  in  the  midst  not  only  of 
the  disappointment  of  our  hopes  of  a  better  order  of 
society,  but  of  the  destruction  or  immediate  danger  of 
all  the  best  institutions  transmitted  to  us  from  former 
times.  There  is  a  sense  in  which  I  too  do  not  despond, 
or,  more  properly,  do  not  despair.  I  still  think  that  a 
philosophical  survey  of  human  affairs  teaches  us  to  con- 
sider the  race  of  men  as  engaged  in  a  progress  often 
checked,  long  suspended,  but  always  to  be  traced  through 
the  darkest  mazes  of  history,  and  of  which  the  boundaries 
are  not  assignable.  Moral  or  physical  revolutions  may 
destroy  it  entirely ;  but  there  being  no  examples  of  such 
within  the  period  of  historic  record,  we  must  consider 
them  as  events  which,  though  possible,  are  not  entitled 
to  any  higher  place  in  the  scale. 

u  It  is  certainly  true  that  the  longest  and  most  dreadful 
suspension  of  the  progress  known  to  us,  the  irruption  of 
the  Germanic  nations,  was  so  far  beneficial,  that  it  was 
succeeded,  though  after  a  long  interval,  by  a  better  form 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  383 

of  civilisation  than  that  which  preceded  it ;  nor  can  we 
conceive  how  that  better  order  could  have  arisen,  without 
the  previous  calamities.  In  this  large  sense,  I  do  not 
despair  of  the  fortunes  of  the  human  race.  With  my 
admirable  friend,  Mr.  Dugald  Stewart,  I  am  ready  to 
say,— 

'  Fond,  impious  man,'  &c. 

But  the  moral  days  and  nights  of  these  mighty  revolu- 
tions have  not  yet  been  measured  by  human  intellect. 
Who  can  tell  how  long  that  fearful  night  may  be,  before 
the  dawn  of  a  brighter  to-morrow  ?  Experience  may, 
and  I  hope  does,  justify  us  in  expecting  that  the  whole 
course  of  human  affairs  is  towards  a  better  state  ;  but  it 
does  not  justify  us  in  supposing  that  many  steps  of  the 
progress  may  not  immediately  be  towards  a  worse.  The 
race  of  man  may  reach  the  promised  land,  but  there  is 
no  assurance  that  the  present  generation  will  not  perish 
in  the  wilderness. 

"  The  prospect  of  the  nearest  part  of  futurity,  of  all 
that  we  can  discover,  except  with  the  eyes  of  speculation, 
seems  very  dismal.  The  mere  establishment  of  absolute 
power  in  France  is  the  smallest  part  of  the  evil.  It 
might  be  necessary  for  a  time,  and,  as  you  observe,  it 
might  be  followed  by  a  more  moderate,  popular  vibra- 
tion, which,  like  our  Revolution  of  1688,  might  have 
settled  near  the  point  of  justice;  but  that  seems  no 
longer  possible,  nor,  if  it  were,  would  it  be  sufficient. 
Europe  is  now  covered  with  a  multitude  of  dependent 
despots,  whose  existence  depends  on  their  maintaining 
the  paramount  tyranny  in  France.  The  mischief  has 
become  too  intricate  to  be  unravelled  in  our  day.  An 
evil  greater  than  despotism,  or  rather  the  worst  and 
most  hideous  form  of  despotism,  approaches: — a  mo- 
narchy, literally  universal,  seems  about  to  be  established. 


384  LIFE   OF   THE  [1808. 

Then  all  the  spirit,  variety,  and  emulation  of  separate 
nations,  which  the  worst  forms  of  internal  government 
have  not  utterly  extinguished,  will  vanish.  And  in  that 
state  of  things,  if  we  may  judge  from  past  examples,  the 
whole  energy  of  human  intellect  and  virtue  will  languish, 
and  can  scarcely  be  revived  otherwise  than  by  an  infusion 
of  barbarism. 

"You  build  some  hopes  on  the  character  of  the  mighty 
destroyer  himself ;  they  are,  I  fear,  only  benevolent  illu- 
sions. Imperious  circumstances  have,  doubtless,  as  you 
say,  determined  his  actions;  but  they  have  also  formed 
his  character,  and  produced  a  mind,  which  can  endure 
no  less  powerful  stimulants  than  conquest  and  revolution, 
depositions  and  establishments.  If  he  still  endeavour  to 
persuade  himself  that  he  has  a  benevolent  purpose,  it  is 
a  self-illusion  which  renders  him  more  extensively  and 
incorrigibly  mischievous;  it  will  lead  him  to  destroy  all 
restraints  on  his  will,  as  checks  on  his  benevolence.  He 
will  act  on  two  principles,  the  most  erroneous  and  fatal 
that  a  sovereign  and  a  lawgiver  can  adopt; — one, not  only 
that  he  can  know  how  to  promote  the  happiness  of  na- 
tions and  ages,  which  is  false,  but  that  he  alone  must 
infallibly  know  it,  which  is  more  obviously  false,  and 
more  actively  pernicious ;  —  another,  that  improvement 
can  be  poured  into  the  lap  of  passive  men,  and  that 
happiness  may  be  forced  on  resisting  men,  though  all 
happiness  excludes  restraint,  though  all  real  improvement 
be  the  spontaneous  fruit  of  a  mental  activity,  which 
may,  indeed,  be  guided  by  a  wise  government,  but  for 
which  the  wisest  government  cannot  contrive  a  substi- 
tute. 

"  I  should  rejoice  to  see  your  speculations  on  landed 
property;  for  though,  on  former  occasions,  I  suspected 
you  of  being  more  influenced  by  confidence  in  regula- 
tions than  experience  will  allow,  yet  I  was  always  de- 


1808.]  EIGHT  HON.   SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  385 

lighted,  not  only  by  the  benevolence  of  your  purpose,  but 
by  the  singular  ingenuity  of  your  means.  I  can  promise 
you  no  more  than  that  you  will  give  me  pleasure,  that  you 
will  exercise  and  improve  my  understanding,  and  that  I 
will  freely  tell  you  what  I  think  on  the  subject.  Practical 
effect  here  you  must  not  hope.  The  constitution  of  the 
Anglo-Indian  Government  is  founded  in  opposition  to  the 
most  demonstrated  principles  of  political  science ;  and  its 
measures  are  in  perfect  unison  with  its  original  principles. 
Within  these  two  years  a  gabette  has  been  established  in 
Malabar  and  Canara,  as  a  fund  to  pay  the  salaries  of  the 
provincial  judges.  How  can  you  object  to  a  government 
taking  a  monopoly  of  the  only  luxury  of  the  poor,  when 
you  consider  that  the  government  is  founded  on  a  mono- 
poly? It  is  vain  to  refine  on  the  distribution  of  the 
produce  of  the  soil  between  the  labourer  and  the  legal 
owner,  in  a  country  where  the  latter  class  does  not  really 
exist,  and  where  a  ravenous  government  begins  by  seizing 
at  least  one-half  of  it  in  the  most  vexatious  mode.  This 
Government  is  too  needy  to  listen  to  any  proposal  for 
mitigating  the  fate  of  their  subjects;  all  that  they  can  get 
is  not  enough  for  them.  We  have  a  bankrupt  sovereign, 
and  a  people  beggared  by  imposition.  Yet  so  highly  is 
this  country  favoured  by  nature,  that  the  mere  destruction 
of  the  monopoly  would  speedily  remedy  the  greater  part  of 
these  evils.*  The  act  for  vesting  the  trade  and  territory 
in  an  exclusive  company,  ought  to  have  been  entitled 
i  An  Act  for  preventing  the  Progress  of  Industry  in  India, 
in  order  to  hinder  the  Influx  of  Wealth  into  Great 
Britain.' 

6  •  4*  &  • 

"  If  you  write  to  me  again,  I  promise  not  to  be  long  in 

*  The  initiatory  proceedings  connected  with  the  passing  of  this  grea* 
measure,  he  lived  to  witness  and  assist  at. 
VOL.  I.  33 


386  LIFE    OF   THE  [1808. 

answering  your  letter ;  for  I  can  most  sincerely  subscribe 
myself 

K  Your  grateful  pupil, 

u  And  affectionate  friend, 

"JAMES  MACKINTOSH." 


TO   THE   RIGHT   HONOURABLE   LORD   HOLLAND. 

"  Bombay,  27th  February,  1808. 

DEAR  LORD, — Both  your  advice  and  the  every- 
way agreeable  impression  made  by  your  letter,  are  suf- 
ficient to  silence  me  on  subjects  neither  agreeable  to  myself 
nor  to  others.*  I  heartily  thank  you  for  your  letter ;  and 
I  speak  only  strict  truth  when  I  say,  that  on  such  subjects, 
the  letter  of  no  one  now  living  could  have  given  me  such 
satisfaction.  Respecting  these  matters  I  shall  now  be  not 
only  silent,  but  satisfied. 

"I  have  also  to  thank  you  for  the  'Life  of  Lope  de 
Vega,'  which  I  have  twice  read  with  great  pleasure,  and 
with  an  unusual  concurrence  in  all  the  opinions  of  men 
and  things.  I  was  particularly  delighted  with  your  per- 
fect exemption  from  the  prejudices  of  the  various  sects 
of  literature — a  merit  quite  as  rare  as  impartiality  in 
religion  and  politics.  I  have  long  thought,  what  you 
have  so  well  expressed,  that  it  is  as  absurd  to  condemn 
Racine,  because  his  excellence  is  of  a  different  sort  from 
that  of  Shakspeare,  as  it  would  be  to  condemn  Cham- 
pagne, because  it  is  unlike  Burgundy.  The  modern 
tragedy  is,  in  truth,  a  different  kind  of  poem  from  the 
ancient ;  it  might  properly  have  been  called  by  a  different 
name.  K  it  had,  such  is  the  force  of  names,  the  most 
vulgar  critic  never  would  have  applied  the  ancient  rules  to 

*  Alluding  to  the  death  of  Mr.  Fox. 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.   SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  387 

it.  You  probably  well  know  the  fifth  chapter  of  the 
'Estratto  dell'  Arte  Poetica  d'Aristotele'  of  Metastasio, 
in  which  he  seems  to  prove  that  the  unities  of  time  and 
place  were  neither  enjoined  nor  observed  by  the  ancients; 
that  they  were  devised  by  Castelvetro,  and  that  they 
would  probably  have  been  forgotten,  among  the  other 
subtleties  of  their  inventor,  if  they  had  not  been  revived 
and  sanctioned  by  the  French  Academy,  in  their  cri- 
tique on  the  '  Cid,'  to  gratify  the  Cardinal  de  Richelieu's 
jealousy  of  Corneille.  In  the  arts  which  are  directly 
addressed  to  the  eye,  this  exclusive  bigotry  is  rendered 
so  strikingly  absurd  by  the  faithful  testimony  of  the 
senses,  that  it  is  much  more  rare.  Scarcely  anybody  is 
so  absurd,  as  to  think  the  admiration  of  Rubens  incom- 
patible with  that  of  Teniers.  But  in  literature,  where 
nothing  is  subject  to  so  uniform  a  judge  as  the  eye,  one 
may  every  day  hear  it  said,  that  the  style  of  Burke  must 
be  bad,  because  that  of  Swift  is  excellent. 

Nothing  can  be  more  just  than  your  commendation  of 
Voltaire  as  a  critic ;  still,  however,  I  do  not  wonder  that 
the  Spaniards,  as  well  as  the  Italians  and  English,  com- 
plain of  him,  though  his  petty  mistakes  about  Italian  and 
Spanish  writers  bear  no  proportion  to  the  variety  and 
curiosity  of  his  literary  inquiries ;  for  (to  take  our  own 
literature  as  an  instance),  though  he  was  the  heretic  who 
first  dared  to  commend  Shakspeare  at  Paris,  yet  he  could 
not  tolerate  the  freethinkers,  his  disciples,  who  presumed 
to  equal  Shakspeare  to  Racine.  He  would  tolerate  no 
deviation  from  the  fundamentals  of  the  French  dramatic 
creed ;  and  in  his  old  age  he  persecuted  the  Shakspearians 
as  hotly  (though  in  a  different  manner)  as  Calvin  perse- 
cuted Servetus. 

"  Strange  as  it  may  seem,  I  believe  your  Lordship  to 
be  the  first  English  writer  (with  the  exception  of  Gray) 
who  has  ventured  publicly  to  commend  'Athalie.'  I 


388  LIFE   OF   THE  [1808. 

extend  my  terms  of  communion  still  farther ;  I  compre- 
hend even  Goethe  and  Schiller  within  the  pale;  and 
though  I  know  that  few,  either  in  France  or  England, 
agree  with  me,  I  have  recourse  to  the  usual  consolation  of 
singularity,  that  my  opinion  will  be  more  prevalent,  when 
I  am  myself  forgotten.  So  prevalent  is  the  exclusive 
taste,  that  on  reading  Bossuet's  conclusion  of  the  oration 
on  Conde,  and  Burke's  invasion  of  the  Carnatic,  the  other 
day,  to  a  young  Englishman*  of  three-and-twenty,  I  own 
I  was  surprised  that  even  he  (though  the  finest  youth  in 
the  world)  should  have  had  the  comprehensive  taste  to 
admire  both  these  master-pieces  of  modern  eloquence,  and 
the  natural  equity,  perhaps  the  classical  justice,  to  prefer 
the  simple  grandeur  of  Bossuet  to  the  magnificent  accu- 
mulation of  Burke. 

"  On  my  way  to  Madras,  about  three  months  ago,  I 
travelled  through  the  scene,  which  the  last-mentioned 
description  has  rendered  so  memorable.  I  went  through 
the  Passes,  by  which  Hyder  Ally's  army  entered  to  lay 
waste  the  Carnatic.  I  had  some  pleasing  reflections 
connected  with  our  Indian  usurpations.  Peaceable  and 
solitary  travellers  now  travel  through  these  Passes  with 
more  security  than  they  could  ride  from  London  to 
Windsor.  The  people  of  Mysore,  no  longer  employed 
in  plundering  their  neighbours,  are  most  actively  busy 
in  improving  their  own  country,  under  the  administra- 
tion of  Poornia,  an  old  Bramin,  who  has  kept  his  place 
of  dewan,  or  treasurer,  under  Hyder,  Tippoo,  and  our 
Kajah.  This  old  minister  has,  in  two  years,  made  1100 
miles  of  such  roads  as  England  might  envy ;  he  has  built 
at  least  fifty  considerable  bridges,  and  dug  a  canal  of 
seventy-four  miles  in  length  ;  in  short,  he  applies  a  larger 
part  of  the  revenue  to  the  increase  of  the  public  wealth, 

*  Mr.  Rich. 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  389 

than  any  other  treasurer  ever  did.  In  other  countries, 
much  of  this  might  be  better  left  to  individuals ;  but  in 
India,  where  there  are  no  rich  men  except  in  the  towns, 
the  Government,  which  takes  the  place  of  a  landholder, 
must  discharge  his  duties.  Though  I  slept  on  the  very 
scene  of  the  massacre  at  Vellore,  I  saw  no  traces  of  it 
remaining ;  nor  do  I  entertain  such  apprehensions  of  the 
example,  as  seem  to  be  felt  in  England.  Our  territories 
are  so  vast,  and  our  army  so  variously  composed,  and  so 
totally  unconnected,  that  I  do  not  think  mutiny  the 
danger  to  which  our  Indian  dominions  are  most  exposed. 
In  so  wide  a  country,  the  mutiny  of  one  body  of  troops 
must  always,  with  great  ease,  be  quelled  by  other  soldiers 
of  different  country,  language,  and  religion ;  the  largeness 
of  the  empire  is  its  security  against  this  peril.  Neither 
do  I  apprehend  that  any  combination  of  native  powers 
could  endanger  it.  Its  internal  enemy  is  the  abominable 
system  of  monopoly  by  which  it  is  governed,  and  which 
makes  it  a  burden,  not  an  advantage.  Its  foreign  danger 
is  from  the  army  of  an  European  enemy.  A  march 
through  Turkey  and  Persia  is  a  difficult,  but,  when  these 
countries  are  friendly,  not  an  impossible  enterprise ;  and 
it  surely  will  very  soon  be  attempted,  in  my  opinion,  with 
success.  I  will  not  [expatiate]  on  this  subject,  which  so 
directly  leads  to  the  universal  monarchy,  of  which  the 
establishment  has,  since  the  battle  of  Austerlitz,  seemed 
to  me  inevitable. 

"In  the  mean  time,  during  the  shorter  or  longer 
respite  that  we  may  have,  I  often  lament  that  I  am 
excluded  from  all  means  of  cooperating  in  the  public 
cause  with  those  to  whom  I  feel  the  warmest  attachment. 
When  I  seek  relief  in  dreams  from  gloomy  realities,  I 
often  imagine  myself  seated  in  some  small  house,  between 
Holland-house  and  Kensington-gardens,  with  the  privi- 
lege of  sometimes  rambling  into  your  library.  None  of 

33* 


390  LIFE    OF   THE  [1808. 

the  luxuries  of  that  library  would  certainly  tempt  me 
from  Mr.  Fox's  History.  I  trust  that  it  will  descend  to 
a  posterity  remote  enough  to  feel  the  spirit  of  liberty 
which  he  long  kept  alive,  and  which,  I  fear,  for  a  long, 
long  time  must  be  extinct.  That  at  least  a  year  must 
pass  before  I  can  see  it,  I  consider  as  one  of  the  privations 
of  banishment. 

"I  have  read  part  of  Scsevola*  (the  whole  has  not  yet 
reached  me)  with  great  pleasure,  though  my  assent  to  all 
his  principles  preceded  my  perusal.  He  has  somewhat 
too  much  of  the  fulness  and  formality  of  dissertation  for 
popular  effect ;  but  he  is  a  masterly  writer. 

"  I  took  the  liberty  of  sending  Sharp  some  Constantia 
for  Lady  Holland  about  six  months  ago ;  it  is  said  to  be 
very  capital.  I  must  ownf  I  no  more  sing  the  songs  of 
Hafiz  over  my  Schirauz,  than  I  do  those  of  Myneer  von 
Trankerpot,  or  any  other  Dutch  Anacreon,  over  my 
Constantia.  I  might  have  evaded  this  confession  of  lazi- 
ness and  ignorance  by  observing,  that  I  never  sing,  and 
seldom  drink  j  but  the  truth  is  best. 

"Lady  M.  joins  me  in  most  respectful  good  wishes 
to  your  Lordship,  Lady  Holland,  and  Miss  Fox,  and 
"  I  am,  my  dear  Lord, 

"  Your  Lordship's  most  faithful, 
"  and  attached 

"J.  MACKINTOSH." 

*  The  name  which  distinguished  a  series  of  essays  in  a  newspaper, 
on  a  question  of  great  interest,  in  politics — the  measure  of  ministerial 
responsibility — which  were  afterwards  deservedly  rescued  from  oblivion 
by  a  subsequent  collective  publication. 

f  In  answer  to  some  social  inquiries. 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  391 

TO    JAMES    SCARLETT,  ESQ. 

"Bombay,  28th  February,  1808. 

"Mr  DEAR  SCARLETT, — I  have  long  been  in  your  debt 
a  letter,  but  I  have  written  so  much  to  our  friends 
in  general,  under  the  addresses  of  various  individuals, 
that  I  consider  the  debt  more  as  formal  than  real.  I  have 
now  heard  so  much  of  your  fame  and  success  at  Pem- 
broke,* that  I  am  strongly  reminded  of  the  propriety 
of  paying  it  formally,  as  well  as  substantially.  I  must, 
however,  temper  the  exultation  with  which  your  victories 
would  very  naturally  fill  you,  by  the  information  that 
some  of  our  young  wits  were  much  amused  at  the  idea 
of  Mr.  Scarlett  being  opposed  to  the  red  party.  These 
gibes,  however,  especially  from  so  great  a  distance,  you 
will  have  the  fortitude  to  bear  unmoved ;  and  you  will 
recollect  that  they  are  the  attendants  on  all  triumphs 
but  those  of  Buonaparte,  who  has,  I  fear,  contrived  to 
frighten  the  gibers  into  silence. 

"  In  England  you  receive  the  exploits  piecemeal,  and 
every  dreadful  victory  is,  after  a  time,  effaced  from  the 
mind  by  the  bustle  of  business  and  amusement.  Here 
we  receive  our  news  in  great  masses ;  our  undisturbed 
dulness  suffers  us  to  brood  over  them,  and  we  observe 
the  result,  that  in  two  campaigns, — one  of  three,  and  the 
other  of  nine  months, — within  two  years,  he  has  conquered 
all  the  countries  from  the  Rhine  to  the  Gulf  of  Finland ; 
and  this  empire  extends  south  to  Palermo  and  Gibraltar ; 
and  that,  as  Turkey  and  Persia  are  his  vassals,  it  is  not 
absolute  extravagance  to  consider  the  Indies  as  its  eastern 
boundary.  How  long  this  may  continue,  and  how  soon 
he  may  be  impatient  even  of  the  Ganges  as  his  oriental 
limi^  Cannot  be  precisely  ascertained;  but  it  may  be 

*  Where  his  professional  services  had  been  put  in  requisition  at  a 
contested  election. 


392  LITE   OF   THE  [1808. 

safely  laid  down,  in  general,  that  it  can  be  no  very  long 
time.  It  is  of  more  importance,  however,  to  consider  his 
views  on  the  western  frontier.  Perceval  and  Canning  may 
consider  that  subject  undismayed :  I  cannot  pretend  to 
such  intrepidity ;  and  I  hasten  from  a  class  of  reflections, 
which  it  is  so  painful  and  so  useless  to  encourage. 

"  We  have  just  heard  a  confused  and  hurried  account 
of  the  siege  of  Copenhagen  ;*  but  we  know  nothing  of  the 
issue,  and  nothing  distinctly  of  the  causes.  I  hope  you 
are  not,  in  the  agitation  of  your  fears,  striking  random 
blows,  and  escaping  for  a  moment  from  terrors  inspired 
by  a  dreadful  enemy,  into  anger  against  a  weak  one. 
The  refuge  must  be  very  short.  Whatever  may  be  the 
motives,  it  is  a  charming  spectacle  for  Buonaparte.  Eng- 
land employs  her  force  in  destroying  one  of  the  very  few 
remaining  ancient  governments  of  Europe,  and  Russia 
is  to  be  consoled  or  compensated  for  all  her  continental 
defeats,  by  taking  part  in  a  maritime  confederacy  against 
England,  into  which  she  is  so  artfully  driven,  that  she 
persuades  herself  she  is  only  tempted.  All  the  remain- 
ing nominal  states,  including  America,  seem  to  think  an 
affectation  of  hatred  and  anger  against  England  the  most 
decent  disguise  of  their  subserviency  to  France.  Perhaps 
they  work  themselves  into  this  temper,  so  as  to  deceive 
themselves.  Perhaps  they  now  think  the  fortunes  of 
England  desperate,  and  consider  crouching  ninder  the 
storm,  the  only  means  of  reserving,  for  better  times,  some 
hopes  of  a  political  existence.  For  some  one  or  other  of 
these  reasons,  or  for  some  better  reason,  I  fear  the  fact  is, 
that  the  whole  world  will  be,  whether  zealously  or  not, 
at  least  actively,  our  enemies.  You  see  that  I  was  drawn 
back  to  this  terrible  subject  in  the  very  act  of  professing 
to  quit  it;  and  you  see  also  that  my  thoughts  are  as 

*  Capitulation  of  Copenhagen,  and  surrender  of  the  Danish  fleet, 
Sept.  8th,  1807. 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  393 

tumultuary  as  the  scenes  whigh  have  called  them  up.  It 
is  equally  difficult  to  think  at  all  on  any  other  subject, 
and  to  think  with  order  and  calmness  on  this. 

"The  greatest  contrast  to  a  conqueror  is  perhaps  a 
Bramin.  I  will  therefore  tell  you  of  one  I  met  at 
Seringapatam  in  November.  His  name  is  Kagoboyah, 
and  in  spite  of  his  pacific  character,  he  is  a  clerk  (and  a 
rich  one  too)  in  the  military  pay-office.  He  speaks 
English  as  well  as  if  he  had  been  born  in  Middlesex,  with 
the  additional  advantage  of  being  free  from  cockneyism. 
He  has  a  library  of  English  writers ;  but  he  complained 
to  me  that  no  philosophical  works  were  brought  out  to 
India,  except  those  of  the  most  common  and  popular 
sort,  such  as  Locke,  which  he  had  read.  He  lamented 
his  want  of  acquaintance  with  the  metaphysical  systems 
of  the  West,  and  proposed  visiting  Bombay  for  six 
months,  that  he  might,  under  my  direction,  study  the 
principal  books  of  our  philosophy  in  my  library.  He 
seems  accurately  informed  of  their  metaphysical  doctrines, 
though  not  naturally  of  that  subtlety  of  understanding, 
which  makes  a  metaphysician.  We  had  discussions  on 
the  Divita  and  Adivita,  or  the  sect  among  them  who 
allow  two  substances,  —  Spirit  and  Matter ;  and  that 
which  allows  only  one, — Spirit,  or  rather  the  mere  fact 
of  thought.  The  latter  he  allowed  to  be  the  most 
numerous  and  refined,  though  he  is  a  Dwita,  or  Dualist. 
He  promised,  under  my  inspection,  to  translate  the  best 
abridgment  of  Hindu  Logic,  which  if  he  does,  I  will 
publish. 

"  He  told  me  that  their  pilgrimages  produced  travel- 
ling, diffused  knowledge,  promoted  commerce,  and 
removed  local  and  national  prejudices.  I  asked  him 
whether  these  were  the  objects  of  their  lawgivers,  in 
having  enjoined  pilgrimages  ?  His  answer  was  pretty 
nearly  in  the  following  words:  'No;  these  notions  of 
utility  never  occurred  to  our  lawgivers.  Their  views 


394  LIFE   OF   THE  [1808. 

were  exclusively  religious.  But  we  can  now  observe  the 
effects  of  these  institutions.'  I  own  I  was  a  good  deal 
struck  with  these  observations  j  and  I  cannot  help  wishing 
that  Ragoboyah  may  keep  his  promise  of  visiting  me  at 
Bombay,  where  he  will  meet  not  many  English  rivals  in 
thinking  or  speaking. 

"  From  conquerors  and  Bramins  my  mind  passes,  by 

a  link  of  association  I  do  not  immediately  see,  to  lawyers, 
#  #  #  # 

"  We  have  a  smart  young  Irishman  from  your  circuit, 
named  Macklin,  who  would  get  business,  if  he  put  on 
more  the  garb  and  manner  of  a  man  who  seeks  it. 

"I  should  be  very  glad  to  hear  the  news  of  West- 
minster Hall  and  circuit  from  you.  I  wish  Erskine  had 
been  chancellor  long  enough  to  make  Wilson  a  judge. 

"  Pray  write  me  soon ;  and  believe  me,  my  dear 
Scarlett, 

"  Yours  most  faithfully, 

"  J.  MACKINTOSH." 


JOURNAL. 

"March  6th. — My  letters  are  despatched,  and  I  have 
just  finished  the  first  volume  of  the  Life  of  Solomon 
Maimon,  by  himself,  in  German.  He  was  a  Lithuanian 
Jew,  who  passed  the  first  twenty-five  years  of  his  life  in 
the  most  abject  poverty,  as  a  Rabbi,  in  and  near  his 
native  town.  The  manners  and  conditions  of  the  Polish 
Jews  are  quite  new  to  me.  I  never  before  caught  a 
glimpse  of  that  modification  of  human  nature.  The 
character  of  his  Lord,  Prince  Radzivil,  is  an  excellent 
portrait  of  a  Sarmatian  grandee.  He  escaped  to  Konigs- 
berg,  for  the  mere  sake  of  having  some  opportunities 
of  increasing  his  knowledge ;  and  from  thence  went  to 
Berlin,  where  the  zealots  suspected  his  curiosity  of  some 
heretical  taint,  and  turned  him  adrift.  A  scene  of  the 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  395 

lowest  misery  follows,  from  which  he  is  rescued  by  a 
benevolent  Rabbi  at  Posen ;  and  after  being  two  years 
in  luxury,  as  tutor  in  a  wealthy  Jewish  family  of  that 
place,  he  goes  to  Berlin.  There  ends  the  first  volume. 
The  second  I  am  sorry  I  have  not.  It  is  a  most  enter- 
taining piece  of  self-biography.  The  author  became  a 
German  metaphysician  of  some  eminence,  for  which 
many  will  think  his  Talmud  and  Cabala  were  a  proper 
preparatory  study. 

"8th. — Too  tired  for  any  serious  study. — Lay  down 
to  read  election  scurrility  in  '  The  Pilot/  —  but  find 
the  second  volume  of  Maimon,  and  gladly  change  my 
lounging  companion. — Read  seventy  pages,  which  con- 
tain an  analysis  of  the  '  More  Nevochim,'  which  is  most 
curious,  but  would  be  more  satisfactory,  if  there  were 
not  some  suspicious  appearances  of  the  analyser  having 
modernised  his  author.* 

"  9th.  —  Rode  seven  miles  before  breakfast,  drove 
twenty  during  the  day,  and  sat  six  hours  in  court. 

"  10th. — Took  my  revenge  for  the  activity  of  yesterday 
by  a  glorious  lounge. — In  the  evening  began  Smollett's 
Continuation  [of  Hume]  to  the  children. — Revived  my 
old  ambition  of  writing  the  History  of  England  since 
the  Revolution. — A  life  of  projects  ! 

"llth. — Finished  Maimon.  He  seems  to  have  been 
the  first,  in  times  to  be  called  modern,  who  attempted  to 
rationalise  a  positive  religion.  He  was  produced  by  the 
infidelity  of  his  masters,  the  Musselman  Peripatetics 
—  Averroes,  &c.  Maimon's  own  adventures  show  the 
interior  of  German  Judaism  more  clearly  than  ever  I 
saw  the  condition  of  the  Jews  in  any  European  country. 
They  are  still  an  Asiatic  people.  The  Rabbinical  caste 
govern  them  with  Braminical  despotism.  They  want 
nothing  but  power  to  have  'acts  of  faith'  of  their  own. 

*  Moses  Maimonides,  a  celebrated  Jewish  rabbi  of  the  twelfth  century. 


396  LIFE    OF   THE  [1808. 

Maimon  attacked  Kantianism  on  the  principles  of  Mr. 
Hume,  and  was  acknowledged  by  Kant  to  have  under- 
stood him  well,  to  be  a  profound  thinker  and  a  formidable 
opponent. 

"Eode  in  Mahim  woods  in  the  morning.  Finished 
the  third  volume  of  Eichhorn.*  It  is  a  reproach  to 
English  literature,  that  bigotry  has  hindered  this  work 
from  being  translated. 

"  In  the  evening,  M read  Dalrymple's  account  of 

'  the  Ryehouse  Plot.'  The  narrative  is  sometimes  raised 
to  dignity  by  the  grandeur  of  the  subject,  and  sometimes 
sunk,  by  puerile  prettiness,  to  the  level  of  the  author. 
It  is  so  unequal,  and  there  are  parts  of  it  so  good,  that 
I  should  almost  suspect  its  having  received  a  few  touches 
from  some  of  the  literati,  perhaps  Dr.  Ferguson.  The 
fulness  and  circumstantiality  of  it  are  sufficient  to  show 
the  unfairness  of  Mr.  Hume's  narrative,  and  to  restore 
to  Russell  and  Sidney  that  place  of  which  he  has  insi- 
diously deprived  them,  but  which  they  were  entitled 
to  claim,  both  by  the  justice  of  their  cause,  and  by  the 
virtue,  either  amiable  or  sublime,  which  exalted  their 
character. 

"  12th. — Finished  an  anonymous  book  published  at 
Edinburgh  in  1806, /called  Physical  and  Metaphysical 
Enquiries.'  The  writer  is  not  without  natural  acuteness, 
but  he  is  an  unpractised  metaphysician,  who  has  not 
learned  from  experience  to  distrust  first  thoughts.  He 
vainly  supposes  that,  with  the  unaided  eye  of  mere  com- 
mon sense,  he  can  discover  the  minute  and  evanescent 
beings  visible  only  by  the  metaphysical  microscope. 

"  Began  Dr.  Brown  '  on  Cause  and  Effect.'  —  Read 
ninety-four  pages  of  Brown's  work,  which,  in  my  humble 
opinion,  entitles  him  to  a  place  very,  very  near  the  first 
among  the  living  metaphysicians  of  Great  Britain. 

*  Probably  the  "  Introduction  to  the  New  Testament." 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  397 

"13th. — Read  Brown  before  breakfast. — Found  the 
true  answer  to  Mr.  Hume's  '  Essay  on  Miracles/  which 
I  had  discovered  twenty  years  ago. — Agreed  with  the 
author,  till  he  comes  to  dispute  about  the  nature  of  the 
belief  and  expectation,  that  similar  causes  will  produce 
similar  effects.  From  that  place  I  dissent,  and  must  exa- 
mine strictly.  Too  languid  for  this  operation. — Looked 
over  some  of  Heyne's  latest  speeches  at  Gottingen. 

"14th. — Thermometer  96°;  unexampled  at  this  sea- 
son.— Read  to  the  children  in  the  State  Trials  that  of 
Lord  Russell, — affected  by  the  simplicity  and  modesty 
of  his  blameless  character, — not  afraid  of  death,  but 
dreading  the  least  suspicion  of  inhumanity  or  falsehood. 

"  20th. — Received,  on  the  19th,  news  of  Russia  having 
declared  war  against  us,*  of  the  Danish  fleet  having 
arrived  in  England,  of  the  French  invasion  of  Portugal, 
which  I  suppose  means  the  deposition  of  the  House  of 
Braganza.f 

"24th. — Reading  very  miscellaneous  for  these  last 
ten  days.  'Dallaway's  Architecture'  a  better  collection 
than  I  expected.  One  hint  new  to  me,  and  I  think 
likely  to  be  true,  of  the  different  character  of  the  Gothic 
architecture  in  the  different  countries  of  Europe. 

"  The  correspondence  of  Leibnitz  with  Thomas  Bur- 
nett (query,  who  was  he?J  for  he  was  not  the  famous 
master  of  the  Charterhouse),  and  his  Collectanea  Etymo- 
logica.  Leibnitz  had  the  grandest  glimpses  of  any  man 
since  Lord  Bacon.  His  mind  was  Verulamian  in  extent 
of  view,  but  not  in  imagination.  He  seems  to  have  been 
the  first  philosophical  etymologist,  and  to  have  first 
rightly  estimated  the  importance  of  the  Teutonic  nations 

*  26th  October,  1807. 

t  On  the  1st  February  following,  Junot  announced  "that  the  House 
of  Braganza  had  ceased  to  reign." 

J  Mr.  Burnett  of  Kemney,  a  Scotch  gentleman. 
VOL.  L  34 


398  LIFE    OF    THE  [1808. 

and  languages.  That  he  called  them  Celtic  was  a  mis- 
take which  can  appear  important  only  to  Mr.  Pinkerton. 

"  Received  yesterday  the  account  of  Sotheby's*  acade- 
mical honours  at  Calcutta,  and  Lord  Minto's  magnificent 
panegyric  on  him. 

"27th. — I  forgot  at  the  time  to  mention  a  singular 
circumstance  which  occurred  a  few  days  ago.  Padre 
Luigi  brought  to  call  on  me  a  Georgian  priest,  of  the 
Latin  rite,  on  his  way  to  exercise  the  functions  of 
Apostolical  Vicar  at  Cabul.  He  was  born  in  Georgia, 
was  ten  years  in  the  seminary  of  the  Propaganda  at 
Rome,  six  years  superintendent  of  a  congregation  at 

*  George  Sotheby,  Esq.,  of  the  Bombay  Civil  Service,  the  son  of  the 
late  Mr.  Sotheby,  so  well  known  to  every  reader  of  English  poetry.  On 
first  going  to  India,  he  lived  for  some  time  with  Sir  James,  by  whose 
advice  he  asked  permission,  though  attached  to  the  Bombay  Presidency, 
to  be  admitted  into  the  College  of  Calcutta,  for  the  purpose  of  gaining 
an  acquaintance  with  the  principal  languages  of  the  East,  which,  at  that 
time,  could  be  done  effectually  in  no  other  part  of  India.  He  was  a 
young  man  of  great  capacity  and  of  indefatigable  labour,  and  no  less  dis- 
tinguished for  his  agreeable  manners  and  the  virtues  of  his  heart.  The 
entry  in  the  text  alludes  to  a  Discourse  of  Lord  Minto,  then  Governor- 
General  of  India,  delivered  after  a  Public  Examination,  which  took 
place  only  four  months  after  he  had  joined  the  College,  when  attain- 
ments were  reported  of  him,  which,  taking  into  consideration  the  short- 
ness of  his  period  of  residence, "  exceeded  so  far  the  usual  achievements 
of  industry  and  capacity,  as  to  wear  almost  an  air  of  fable  and  prodigy." 
His  Lordship  concluded  thus: — "I  have  dwelt,  I  confess  somewhat 
largely,  on  what  appears  to  me  a  rare  example  of  early  maturity  of 
judgment,  talents,  and  character,  because  I  have  thought  it,  in  truth, 
entitled  to  a  place  in  the  fasti  of  your  College,  and  siquid  mea  carmina 
possunt,  the  name  of  Mr.  Sotheby  shall  not  be  omitted  in  its  tablets." 

This  extraordinary  young  man,  whose  qualifications  pointed  him  out 
for  the  diplomatic  branch  of  the  service,  became  ultimately  assistant  to 
Richard  Jenkins,  Esq.,  the  Resident  at  Nagpore,  where,  in  the  year 
1818.  at  the  general  rising  of  the  Mahratta  princes,  in  assisting  to  repel 
a  desperate  assault  on  the  Residency  by  the  Rajah's  troops,  he  fell — 
too  soon  for  every  thing  but  his  own  glory. 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  399 

Astrachan,  had  attempted  to  go  to  Cabul  through  Persia, 
but  was  driven  back  from  Ispahan  by  the  war  in  Kho- 
rassan,  and  had  come  here  to  try  the  perilous  and  abso- 
lutely unexplored  route  by  Tatta.  We  conversed  in 
Italian.  He  praised  the  Russian  conquest,  which  puts 
an  end  to  the  slave  trade  for  replenishing  the  harams  of 
Constantinople  and  Ispahan.  He  said  that  the  Georgian 
women  were  angels;  and  he  is  himself  a  very  favourable 
specimen  of  the  beauty  of  the  race.  He  was  much  struck 
with  my  books,  which,  he  said,  reminded  him  of  a  Pa- 
lazzo in  Roma.  I  procured  him  letters  from  the  Hindu 
merchant  of  most  consequence  here  in  the  trade  to  Sind, 
which  will,  I  hope,  secure  and  facilitate  his  dangerous 
journey. 

"28th. — Idle  employment! — ' Critical  Reviews' and 

'  British  Critics.' — ' 's  Life  of ' — the  worst  book 

in  the  world — absolutely  useless,  except  to  illustrate,  by 
contrast,  the  beauty  of  the  Lives  of  Robertson  and  Smith, 
by  Mr.  Stewart. 

u  30th. — Hear  of  poor  Hardinge's  death.* 

*  Of  the  St.  Fiorenzo,  in  an  action  off  Cape  Comorin,  between  that 
ship  and  the  French  ship  Piedmontaise.  The  St.  Fiorenzo  carried  42 
guns  and  264  men ;  while  the  Piedmontaise  had  50  guns  of  superior 
weight,  366  Europeans,  and  200  Lascars.  Captain  Hardinge,  for  three 
successive  days,  followed  and  engaged  the  Piedmontaise,  forcing  her 
each  day  into  an  action,  which  was  supported  with  determined  bravery 
on  both  sides.  On  the  third  day  he  fell ;  but  his  ship  continued  to  be 
fought  with  undiminished  valour  by  Lieutenant  Dawson,  the  next  in 
command,  and  the  Piedmontaise  finally  struck.  The  two  vessels  soon 
after  arrived  at  Bombay,  mere  wrecks,  and  were  visited  by  crowds  from 
the  shore.  On  the  first  news  of  this  fight,  and  of  Captain  Hardinge's 
death,  Sir  James  addressed  the  following  letter. 

TO  THE  EDITOR  OF  THE  BOMBAY  COURIER. 

"Bombay,  31st  March,  1808. 

"  SIR, — Yielding  to  the  first  impulse  of  those  feelings  with  which  the 
heroic  death  of  Captain  Hardinge  has  filled  my  mind,  I  take  the  liberty 


400  LIFE   OF   THE  [1808. 

"April  1st. — Southey's  Specimens  of  the  later  Eng- 
lish Poems. — Preface  and  Preliminary  Notices  very  lively. 
They  contain  a  pretty  complete  code  of  anti-Johnsonian 
criticism.  The  style  is  a  good  imitation  of  Lord  Orford. 
It  is  singular  that  a  poet  who  lives  so  little  in  this  world 
should  have  chosen  the  style  of  a  witty  worldling. 

"The  selection  is  founded  on  two  principles  rather 
unfavourable  to  the  age  from  which  it  is  made.  1.  That 
all  the  best  known  (i.  e.  all  the  best)  poems  could  be 
excluded.  2.  That  bad  poems  characterise  the  taste  of 
an  age  as  well  as  good,  perhaps  better,  and  are  therefore 
as  well  entitled  to  a  place.  Under  the  guidance  of  these 
two  maxims,  a  selection  from  the  most  poetical  age  must 
be  bad.  They  are  eminently  unjust  to  a  highly  polished 
period,  of  which  the  merit  generally  consists  in  the  high 
perfection  of  a  few  poems  excluded  by  the  first  maxim, 
and  which  is  always  most  fertile  in  bad  and  middling 
poems,  chosen  by  Mr.  S.  as  characteristic  of  its  taste. 

"  The  comparison  of  a  polished  with  an  unpolished 


of  proposing  to  the  British  inhabitants  of  this  Residency  a  subscription, 
for  erecting  a  monument  to  his  memory  in  the  Church  of  Bombay.  A 
grateful  nation  will  doubtless  place  this  monument  by  the  side  of  that 
of  Nelson ;  but  the  memorials  of  heroic  virtue  cannot  be  too  much  mul- 
tiplied. Captain  Hardinge  fell  for  Britain ;  but  he  may  more  especially 
be  said  to  have  fallen  for  British  India. 

"  I  should  be  ashamed  of  presuming  to  suggest  any  reasons  for  such 
a  measure.  They  will  abundantly  occur  to  the  lovers  of  their  country. 
Nor  can  I  at  present  bring  my  mind  to  consider  any  details  of  execu- 
tion. If  the  measure  in  general  be  approved,  such  details  can  easily  be 
arranged. 

"  I  am,  Yours,  &c. 

"JAMES  MACKINTOSH." 


A  very  liberal  subscription  was  made,  and  a  splendid  marble  monu- 
ment, by  Bacon,  has  since  been  erected  to  Captain  Hardinge,  in  the 
Church  of  Bombay. 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR    JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  401 

age,  in  the  number  of  bad  poems,  is  very  unfair.   It  leaves 
out  the  following  essential  considerations. 

"  I.  The  whole  number  of  poems  published  in  a 
polished  age  being  greater,  it  is  only  the  proportion  of 
bad  poems  which  ought  to  enter  into  the  account. 

"II.  There  are  many  poems  written,  but  not  pub- 
lished, in  rude  ages;  in  a  refined  period,  the  demand 
and  the  facility  of  publication  cause  a  much  larger 
proportion  of  the  poems  written  to  be  published. 

"III.  There  being  many  more  readers  in  a  lettered 
age,  among  whom  are  many  incompetent  judges,  there 
will  be  a  demand,  and  even  a  temporary  reputation  for 
bad  poems,  till  it  is  checked  by  the  decision  of  the 
judging  few,  which  always  ultimately  prevails. 

"  IV.  There  is  another  cause  of  the  temporary  repu- 
tation of  bad  poems  [in  a  lettered  age].  A  book  is  sooner 
known,  and  consequently  sooner  ceases  to  be  a  novelty. 
The  public  appetite  longs  for  something  newer,  though 
it  should  be  worse. 

u — 'Mannert's  Geography  of  Greeks  and  Romans/ 
volume  on  Germany. — Excellent  historical  or  antiquarian 
introduction,  in  which  all  the  intercourse  of  the  Greeks 
and  Romans  with  the  Teutonic  nations  is  traced  from 
their  supposed  appearance  as  Cimmerii,  on  the  Bos- 
phorus,  till  they  are  completely  ascertained  to  be  a 
distinct  race  from  the  Gauls  or  Kelts,  by  Julius  Caesar, 
and  from  that  time  through  the  wars  of  the  Romans 
on  the  frontiers  of  the  Rhine  and  Danube  till  the  inva- 
sion of  the  empire  by  the  barbarians. 

"At  the  time  of  the  second  Punic  war  he  supposes  all 
Gaul,  part  of  Great  Britain  and  Spain  (the  Celtiberi), 
the  northern  part  of  Italy,  and  the  whole  course  of  the 
Danube  to  the  frontiers  of  Thrace,  to  have  been  peopled 
by  Celts.  The  Iberians,  an  African  people,  inhabited 
Spain.  The  Teutons  had  begun  to  stretch  towards,  and 

34* 


402  LIFE   OF   THE  [1808. 

perhaps  across,  the  Rhine,  from  their  original  seats 
between  the  Elbe  and  the  Vistula.  Who  the  Thracians 
and  the  Southern  Italians  were  he  leaves  for  discussion  in 
another  place. — He  contradicts,  as  he  well  may,  the  hypo- 
thesis of  Schlcezzer,  who  makes  the  Belgse  to  be  a  separate 
race,  distinct  from  Celts  and  Teutons,  the  parents  of  the 
Armorican  and  Welsh  Britons, — both,  by  the  decisive 
evidence  of  language,  proved  to  be  Celts;  but  he  affirms 
that  the  Belgse  were  Celts  against  the  testimony  of 
Caesar,  which  makes  it  more  probable  that  they  were  a 
Teutonic  people. 

"2nd. — From  'Tiedemann's  History  of  Philosophy' 
I  cannot  find  that  Roscelin,  the  supposed  founder  of  the 
Nominalists,  left  any  writings,  or  that  Abelard,  a  sup- 
posed Nominalist,  left  any  traces  of  his  Nominalism 
in  those  writings  of  his  which  are  preserved.  William 
of  Ockham  seems,  therefore,  the  first  authentic  Nomi- 
nalist. 

"3rd. — Admirable  account  of  scholastic  metaphysics 
and  natural  theology  in  Tiedemann — full  of  recondite 
learning.  It  deserves  translation.  It  is  not  quite  satis- 
factory on  the  Nominal  question,  but  I  have  not  yet  come 
to  William  of  Ockham. 

" — Delighted  with  Mannert's  most  clear  account  of 
the  Germanic  nations. — The  change  of  their  names  in 
ancient  authors  well  explained  from  ignorant  reporters 
and  transcribers,  variety  of  appellations,  migrations,  and 
confederacies. 

"20th. — Go  to  Salsette  to  see  the  caves  of  Ambooli. 
—  Go  to  Bhandoop. 

"21st. — C and  I  visit  in  the  morning  the  pic- 
turesque scenes  of  Bhandoop,  consisting  of  two  wells  and 
a  distillery — return  in  the  evening — rapid  ride  to  escape 
the  danger  of  tigers, 

"  22nd.  —  Sir  Edward  Pellew  dined  here  with  Mr. 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  403 

Dawson,  of  the  St.  Fiorenzo. — Both  returned  on  their 
way  back. 

"27th. — Read  the  'Cobbetts'  of  August  and  Septem- 
ber. —  Amused  with  his  prejudices  against  Scotland  and 
education.  He  is  reconciled  to  the  new  ministers  by  the 
lawless  appearance  of  the  attack  on  Copenhagen.  He 
strips  it  of  every  pretext,  and  delights  in  looking  at  it  in 
its  naked  ruffianism.  He  seems  even  once  more  partial 
to  England,  as  soon  as  it  gives  him  an  opportunity  of 
being  hostile  to  America, — the  only  country  which  he 
detests  more  than  his  own. 

"  28th.  —  I  have  lately  read  the  very  able  review  of 
Cobbett  in  the  Edinburgh,*  and  I  am  now  amused  with 
1  the  Annual,'  especially  the  Taylorian  parts  of  it. 

u  The  new  maritime  orders  f  which  we  have  received 
are  a  very  singular  experiment  to  try  a  new  system  of 
trade,  which  can  only  be  an  universal  armed  smuggling. 

"  May  23rd.  —  Read  since  last  entry,  e  Eloge  de 
Malesherbes  par  Gaillard.' —  Fine  passage  of  Juvenal.  — 
Similarity  to  Sir  Thomas  More. 

"  —  Wilberforce  on  the  ' Abolition.' 

[" — Almost  as  much  enchanted  by  Mr.  "Wilberforce's 
book  as  by  his  conduct.  He  is  the  very  model  of  a 
reformer.  Ardent  without  turbulence,  mild  without 
timidity  or  coldness,  neither  yielding  to  difficulties,  nor 
disturbed  or  exasperated  by  them ;  patient  and  meek, 
yet  intrepid ;  persisting  for  twenty  years  through  good 
report  and  evil  report ;  just  and  charitable  even  to  his 
most  malignant  enemies;  unwearied  in  every  experiment 
to  disarm  the  prejudices  of  his  more  rational  and  disin- 


*  Vol.  X.  p.  386. 

t  The  celebrated  Orders  in  Council  of  November  and  December, 
1807,  retaliatory  on  the  Berlin  Decree  in  forcing  the  trade  of  neutrals 
through  the  ports  of  this  country. 


404  LIFE    OF    THE  [1808. 

terested  opponents,  and  supporting  the  zeal  without 
dangerously  exciting  the  passions  of  his  adherents.] 

"  — '  Bentham  on  Judicial  Keform  in  Scotland.'  Pro- 
found, —  original,  —  useless  !  unintelligible  to  common 
readers,  and  attacks  all  their  prejudices.  —  Plymley's 
pamphlets,  full  of  sense  and  wit.  Keviews  and  Magazines. 

"' Vitam  perdidi,  operose  nihil  agendo,'  were  the  dying 
words  of  the  great  and  good  Grotius ! ! !  What  will  be 
mine? 

" —  Read  all  the  periodical  publications  of  the  mission- 
aries, and,  by  doing  so,  at  once  formed  a  clearer  idea 
of  the  sect,  than  I  could  have  done  during  my  whole 
life  in  England,  where  I  never  should  have  heard  of  the 
men  or  their  books. 

"June  10th.  —  Finished  Lord  Woodhouselee's  'Life 
of  Lord  Kaimes.'  The  life  is  more  important  than  that 
of  Beattie,  but  the  character  is  less  interesting.  There 
is  a  singular  contrast  between  the  biographer  and  his 
hero.  The  latter  was  a  metaphysician  without  literature ; 
the  former  is  a  man  of  letters  without  philosophy,  and 
hostile  to  it.  He  never  considers  that,  by  asserting  the 
impossibility  of  reaching  truth  in  metaphysics,  he  in 
effect  maintains  it  to  be  unattainable  in  any  part  of  know- 
ledge, and  patronises  universal  scepticism.  The  collec- 
tion of  letters  must  interest,  especially  those  of  D.  Hume 
and  Dr.  Franklin ;  Mrs.  Montagu's  are  lively  and  inge- 
nious, but  not  natural ;  Lord  W.'s  Dissertation  on  Penal 
Law  is  a  confusion  of  the  motive  and  reason  of  punish- 
ment. How  is  it  possible  that  any  man  should  now  vin- 
dicate the  trials  in  the  time  of  Charles  H.  ? 

"In  the  list  of  modern  Latin  poets,  a  subject  with 
which  Lord  W.  is  well  acquainted,  I  was  surprised  to 
find  Buchanan  placed  so  high,  who  was  neither  pure 
nor  poetical,  and  no  mention  of  Fracastorius,  who  is 
eminently  both.  I  wondered,  also,  at  finding  Vincent 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR    JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  405 

Bourne,  and  still  more  Markham ;  while  there  is  nothing 
said  of  Lowth  or  of  Jortin ;  and,  what  to  me  is  most 
wonderful,  of  Gray  himself. 

"llth. — Stolberg's  History  of  Christianity.  A  fana- 
tical work  of  a  celebrated  German  poet,  who,  in  advanced 
age  has  become  a  catholic, — another  effect  of  the  reaction 
excited  by  the  French  Revolution.  He  borrows  from 
every  quarter  miserable  props  for  his  new  creed — Sir  W. 
Jones,  Wilford,  even  Maurice  and  Vallencey ;  and  that 
nothing  foolish  might  be  wanting,  he  congratulates  the 
world  on  the  formation  of  the  Bombay  [Literary] 
Society. 

u  —  'Corinne,'  first  volume. — I  have  not  yet  received 
the  original;  and  I  can  no  longer  refrain  even  from  a 
translation. 

"  It  is,  as  has  been  said,  a  tour  in  Italy,  mixed  with  a 
novel.  The  tour  is  full  of  picture  and  feeling,  and  of 
observations  on  national  character,  so  refined,  that  scarcely 
any  one  else  could  have  made  them,  and  not  very  many 
will  comprehend  or  feel  them.  What  an  admirable 
French  character  is  D'Erfeuil !  so  free  from  exaggeration, 
that  the  French  critics  say  the  author,  notwithstanding 
her  prejudices,  has  made  him  better  than  her  favourite 
Oswald.  Nothing  could  more  strongly  prove  the  fidelity 
of  her  picture,  and  the  lowness  of  their  moral  standard. 
She  paints  Ancona,  and,  above  all,  Rome,  in  the  liveliest 
colours.  She  alone  seems  to  feel  that  she  inhabited  the 
eternal  city.  It  must  be  owned  that  there  is  some  repeti- 
tion, or  at  least  monotony,  in  her  reflections  on  the  monu- 
ments of  antiquity.  The  sentiment  inspired  by  one  is  so 
like  that  produced  by  another,  that  she  ought  to  have 
contented  herself  with  fewer  strokes,  and  to  have  given 
specimens  rather  than  an  enumeration.  The  attempt  to 
vary  them  must  display  more  ingenuity  than  genius.  It 


406  LIFE   OF   THE  [1808. 

leads  to  a  littleness  of  manner  destructive  of  gravity  and 
tenderness. 

"  In  the  character  of  Corinne,  Madame  de  Stael  draws 
an  imaginary  self — what  she  is,  what  she  had  the  power 
of  being,  and  what  she  can  easily  imagine  that  she  might 
have  become.  Purity,  which  her  sentiments  and  prin- 
ciples teach  her  to  love;  talents  and  accomplishments, 
which  her  energetic  genius  might  easily  have  acquired ; 
uncommon  scenes  and  incidents  fitted  for  her  extraor- 
dinary mind;  and  even  beauty,  which  her  fancy  con- 
templates so  constantly,  that  she  can  scarcely  suppose  it 
to  be  foreign  to  herself,  and  which,  in  the  enthusiasm  of 
invention,  she  bestows  on  this  adorned  as  well  as  improved 
self, — these  seem  to  be  the  materials  out  of  which  she  has 
formed  Corinne,  and  the  mode  in  which  she  has  reconciled 
it  to  her  knowledge  of  her  own  character. 

"13th. — Second  and  third  volumes  of  '  Corinne.'  I 
swallow  Corinne  slowly,  that  I  may  taste  every  drop. 
I  prolong  my  enjoyment,  and  really  dread  the  termination. 
Other  travellers  had  told  us  of  the  absence  of  public 
amusements  at  Rome,  and  of  the  want  of  conversation 
among  an  indolent  nobility ;  but,  before  Madame  de 
Stael,  no  one  has  considered  this  as  the  profound  tran- 
quillity and  death-like  silence,  which  the  feelings  require 
in  a  place,  where  we  go  to  meditate  on  the  great  events 
of  which  it  was  once  the  scene,  in  a  magnificent  museum 
of  the  monuments  of  ancient  times. 

"How  she  ennobles  the  most  common  scenes!  —  a 
sermon  on  the  quarter-deck  of  a  ship  of  war ! 

"  She  admires  the  English,  among  whom  she  could  not 
endure  to  live ;  and  sighs  for  the  society  of  Paris,  which 
she  despises ! 

"  1 5th. — Fourth  and  fifth  volumes  of '  Corinne.'  Fare- 
well Corinne !  powerful  and  extraordinary  book ;  full  of 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  407 

faults  so  obvious,  as  not  to  be  worth  enumerating ;  but  of 
which  a  single  sentence  has  excited  more  feeling,  and 
exercised  more  reason,  than  the  most  faultless  models  of 
elegance. 

"  To  animadvert  on  the  defects  of  the  story  is  lost 
labor.  It  is  a  slight  vehicle  of  idea  and  sentiment.  The 
whole  object  of  an  incident  is  obtained,  when  it  serves  as 
a  pretext  for  a  reflection  or  an  impassioned  word.  Yet 
even  here  there  are  scenes  which  show  what  she  could 
have  done,  if  she  had  been  at  leisure  from  thought.  The 
prayer  of  the  two  sisters  at  their  father's  tomb,  the  oppo- 
sition of  their  characters,  is  capable  of  great  interest,  if  it 
had  been  well  laboured.  The  grand  defect  is  the  want 
of  repose — too  much  and  too  ingenious  reflection — too 
uniform  an  ardour  of  feeling.  The  understanding  is 
fatigued ;  the  heart  ceases  to  feel. 

"  The  minute  philosophy  of  passion  and  character  has 
so  much  been  the  object  of  my  pursuit,  that  I  love  it  even 
in  excess.  But  I  must  own  that  it  has  one  material 
inconvenience.  The  observations  founded  upon  it  may 
be  true  in  some  instances,  without  being  generally  so. 
Of  the  small  and  numerous  springs  which  are  the  subject 
of  observation,  some  may  be  most  powerful  at  one  time, 
others  at  another.  There  is  constantly  a  disposition  to 
generalise,  which  is  always  in  danger  of  being  wrong.  It 
may  be  safe  to  assert,  that  a  subtle  ramification  of  feeling 
is  natural ;  but  it  is  always  unsafe  to  deny  that  an  equally 
subtle  ramification  of  the  same  feeling,  in  an  opposite 
direction,  may  not  be  equally  natural. 

"  There  are,  sometimes,  as  much  truth  and  exactness 
in  Madame  de  StaeTs  descriptions,  as  in  those  of  most 
cold  observers.  Her  picture  of  stagnation,  mediocrity, 
and  dulness;  of  torpor,  animated  only  by  envy ;  of  mental 
superiority,  dreaded  and  hated  without  even  being  com- 
prehended ;  and  of  intellect,  gradually  extinguished  by 


408  LIFE    OF   THE  [1808. 

the  azotic  atmosphere  of  stupidity  is  so  true !  The  unjust 
estimate  of  England,  which  this  Northumbrian  picture 
might  have  occasioned,  how  admirably  is  it  corrected  by 
the  observation  of  Oswald,  and  even  of  poor  Corinne,  on 
their  second  journeys !  and  how,  by  a  few  reflections  in 
the  last  journey  to  Italy,  does  this  singular  woman  reduce 
to  the  level  of  truth  the  exaggerated  praise  bestowed  by 
her  first  enthusiasm  on  the  Italians ! 

"  How  general  is  the  tendency  of  these  times  towards 
religious  sentiment !  Madame  de  Stael  may  not,  perhaps, 
ever  be  able  calmly  to  believe  the  dogmas  of  our  sect. 
She  seems  prepared,  by  turns,  to  adopt  the  feelings  of  all 
sects.  Twenty  years  ago  the  state  of  opinion  seemed  to 
indicate  an  almost  total  destruction  of  religion  in  Europe. 
Ten  years  ago  the  state  of  political  events  appeared  to 
show  a  more  advanced  stage  in  the  progress  towards  such 
a  destruction.  The  reaction  has  begun  everywhere.  A 
mystical  philosophy  prevails  in  Germany ;  a  poetical  reli- 
gion is  patronised  by  men  of  genius  in  France.  It  is 
adopted  in  some  measure  by  Madame  de  Stael,  who  finds 
it  even  by  the  help  of  her  reason  in  the  nature  of  man,  if 
she  cannot  so  deeply  perceive  it  in  the  nature  of  things. 
In  England,  no  traces  of  this  tendency  are  discoverable 
among  the  men  of  letters ;  perhaps  because  they  never 
went  so  near  the  opposite  extreme ;  perhaps,  also,  because 
they  have  not  suffered  the  same  misfortunes. 

"  Another  phenomenon,  however,  is  remarkable  among 
us, — the  diffusion  of  the  religious  spirit  among  the 
people,  and  its  prevalence  among  men  of  rank  and  opu- 
lence, though  not  hitherto  among  men  of  letters.  A 
party  which  has  hitherto  not  only  neglected,  but  rather 
despised  or  dreaded  knowledge,  has  been  compelled,  by 
the  literary  spirit  of  the  age,  to  call  in  literature  to 
their  aid ;  their  new  followers  of  a  higher  class  require 
elegance.  '  Foster's  Essays/  and  the  '  Eclectic  Review/ 


1808.]  RIGHT  HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  409 

are  very  successful  exertions  to  supply  this  demand. 
They  certainly  employ  a  very  dangerous  auxiliary ;  but 
perhaps  the  tendency  of  a  disturbed  age  may  long  be  too 
powerful  to  be  withstood,  either  by  the  cheerful  calm,  or 
by  the  impatient  curiosity  which  are  naturally  produced 
by  literature,  and  which  are  equally  adverse  to  enthu- 
siasm. 

****** 

"  July  6th.  —  Term  has  afforded  a  more  plausible  pre- 
text for  interruption  than  I  usually  have. 

"  The  works  of  Louis  XIV.  contain  many  tiresome 
and  frivolous  parts,  with  few  single  passages  that  are 
remarkable  ;  but  six  volumes  of  any  man's  letters,  how- 
ever separately  insignificant,  insensibly  give  a  more  just 
notion  of  his  character.  I  think  the  editors  do  him 
injustice.  Men  of  letters  see  talent  only  in  writings  or 
sayings,  or  at  most,  only  in  very  brilliant  enterprises 
or  very  great  undertakings.  They  make  no  sufficient 
account  of  the  mental  power  exerted  in  the  details  of 
conduct.  This  is  particularly  faulty  in  the  case  of 
Louis  XIV.,  whose  talents  were  entirely  practical,  and 
were  certainly  not  brilliant.  The  last  volume  contains 
three  or  four  curious  fragments  of  history.  —  Queen 
Christina,  —  the  Abbe  Primi,  &c.  &c.  The  Preface  is 
able,  though  hostile  to  Louis  XIV.,  as  might  be  expected 
from  him*  who  read  to  Louis  XVI.  his  sentence  of 
death. 

"No.  XXI.  of  the  Edinburgh  Review  is  very  rich. 
The  article  on  Political  Economy  and  that  on  Sir  J. 
Sinclair,  are  capital ;  that  on  Wordsworth  very  unjust 
and  anti-poetical. 

["  I  have  just  got,  by  a  most  lucky  chance,  Word* 
worth's  new  Poems.  I  owe  them  some  most  delightful 

*  Garat,  Minister  of  Justice. 
VOL.  L  35 


410  LIFE   OF   THE  [1808. 

hours  of  abstraction  from  the  petty  vexations  of  the  little 
world  where  I  live,  and  the  horrible  dangers  of  the  great 
world,  to  which  my  feelings  are  attached.  I  applied  to 
him  his  own  verses :  — 

Blessings  be  with  them,  and  eternal  praise, 
Who  gave  us  nobler  loves  and  nobler  cares — 
The  Poets. 

"  The  Sonnets  on  Switzerland  and  on  Milton  are 
sublime.  Some  of  the  others  are  in  a  style  of  severe 
simplicity,  sometimes  bordering  on  the  hardness  and 
dryness  of  some  of  Milton's  Sonnets.  Perhaps  it  might 
please  him  to  know,  that  his  poetry  has  given  these 
feelings  to  one  at  so  vast  a  distance :  it  is  not  worth 
adding,  to  one  who  formerly  had  foolish  prejudices 
against  him.] 

"  llth.  —  Unexpected  order  for  the  ships  to  sail. 
—  Occupied  in  writing  to  Europe. 

« 12th.  —  Ships  sailed. 

«14th  to  16th.  —  Sessions. 

"17th. — Lately  read  the  two  first  volumes  of  Pascal — 
looked  into  the  third,  and  glanced  over  the  fourth  and 
fifth.  I  shall  say  nothing  of  his  transcendent  genius  or 
his  gloomy  enthusiasm.  They  are  known  to  every  one. 
Bayle  calls  him,  '  Tun  des  plus  sublimes  esprits  du 
monde.'  His  philosophical  glances  are  wonderful.  The 
summary  of  arguments  for  scepticism  and  dogmatism, 
especially  the  latter,  is  perhaps  the  best  in  ancient  or 
modern  philosophy.  The  last  contains,  in  a  single  page, 
the  whole  system  of  Dr.  Reid;  and  it  is  but  little  to  add 
that  it  contains,  in  the  first  sentence,*  the  whole  book  of 
Dr.  Beattie.  But  as  my  mind  has  been  much  turned  of 

*  "  L'unique  fort  des  Dogmatistes  c'est,  qu'  en  parlant  de  bonne  foi, 
on  ne  peut  douter  des  principes  naturels." 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  411 

late  to  the  theory  of  religious  sentiments,  I  have  chiefly 
considered  Pascal  in  that  point  of  view. 

"  Jansenism  is  a  sort  of  Catholic  Calvinism.  It  affords 
a  new  instance  of  the  more  pure  and  severe  moralists 
naturally  adopting  a  doctrine  of  self-debasement,  and, 
in  Pascal's  language,  of  self-hatred,  and  of  their  refer- 
ring every  action,  enjoyment,  and  hope,  exclusively  to 
the  all-perfect  Being.  The  Calvinistic  people  of  Scot- 
land, of  Switzerland,  of  Holland,  and  of  New  England, 
have  been  more  moral  than  the  same  classes  among  other 
nations.  Those  who  preached  faith,  or  in  other  words, 
a  pure  mind,  have  always  produced  more  popular  virtue 
than  those  who  preached  good  works,  or  the  mere  regu- 
lation of  outward  acts.  The  latter  mode  of  considering 
Ethics,  naturally  gives  rise  to  casuistry,  especially  when 
auricular  confession  makes  it  necessary  for  every  con- 
fessor to  have  a  system,  according  to  which  he  can  give 
opinion  and  advice  to  his  penitent.  The  tendency  of 
casuistry  is  to  discover  ingenious  pretexts  for  eluding 
that  rigorous  morality  and  burdensome  superstition, 
which,  in  the  first  ardour  of  religion,  are  apt  to  be 
established,  and  to  discover  rules  of  conduct  more 
practicable  by  ordinary  men  in  the  common  state  of 
the  world.  The  casuists  first  let  down  morality  from 
enthusiasm  to  reason ;  then  lower  it  to  the  level  of 
general  frailty,  until  it  be  at  last  sunk  in  loose  accom- 
modation to  weakness,  and  even  vice.  The  excess  of 
fanatical  exaggeration  gives  rise  to  casuistry.  The 
abominations  of  laxity  create  a  necessity  for  a  firmer 
and  higher-toned  morality  again.  The  Jesuits  were  the 
casuists  of  the  seventeenth  century.  Pascal  and  the 
Jansenists  were  then:  natural  enemies. 

"18th. — Read  one  hundred  pages  of  Schmidt's  '  Moral 
Philosophy.'      Glanced  over  Lord  Orford's  Letters  for 


412  LIFE   OF   THE  [1808. 

the  twentieth  time.    It  is  very  difficult  to  lay  them 
down." 

Of  the  letters  (the  despatch  of  which  is  mentioned 
shortly  above),  two  here  follow.  The  first  is  admissible, 
if  only  as  evidencing  that  active  sympathy,  with  which 
he  ever  contemplated  the  advancement  of  the  fortunes 
of  a  friend  •  especially  when,  as  in  the  present  case,  it 
was  coincident  with  that  of  the  cause  of  learning  and 
philosophy.  The  appointment  of  a  new  professor  to  the 
chair  of  modern  history  in  the  University  of  Cambridge, 
which  occasioned  it,  has  been  already  alluded  to.  The 
second  was  addressed,  at  a  moment  of  great  personal 
as  well  as  political  interest  to  one,  who  was  then  laying 
the  foundations  of  a  reputation,  which  has  since  re- 
flected so  much  honour  upon  the  English  name  amongst 
the  nations  of  the  East. 

TO   WILLIAM   SMYTH,  ESQ.,   CAMBRIDGE. 

"Bombay,  1th  July,  1808. 

u  MY  DEAR  SIR,  —  I  heartily  rejoice  at  your  appoint- 
ment to  the  professorship,  though  it  be  that  of  Gray ; 
and  I  add,  without  any  foolish  intention  to  flatter  you, 
and  surely  without  any  want  of  the  deepest  reverence  for 
him,  that  it  will  be  your  own  fault,  if  your  lectures  are 
no  better  than  his  could  have  well  been.  He  was  born 
thirty  years  too  soon  for  the  philosophy  and  criticism  of 
modern  history.  His  reflection  was  too  exclusively  em- 
ployed on  his  art.  He  was  a  great  artist,  and  a  most  various 
scholar ;  but  he  was  scarcely  an  original  thinker  on  his- 
torical and  political  subjects.  You  are  come  after  Hume 
and  Montesquieu ;  and  let  me  venture  strongly  to  recom- 
mend to  you  the  books  of  Professor  Millar — his  excellent 
treatise  '  On  Ranks,'  and  even  his  tedious  and  unequal 
work  '  On  the  English  Government/  which  contains  at 


1808.J  RIGHT    HON.    SIR    JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  413 

least  an  excellent  half  volume  of  original  matter.  It  will 
probably  be  information  to  you,  that  the  Compendiums  of 
Universal  History,  published  in  Germany,  will  furnish 
most  useful  models  and  materials.  Of  French  books  I 
know  only  two,  but  can  recommend  both :  Koch, '  Revo- 
lutions  du  Moyen  Age,'  and  Prevot  d'Iray, '  Tableau  de 
1'Histoire  Ancienne  et  Moderne.'  The  first  is  above  all 
price. 

"As  you  say  that  the  composition  of  your  lectures 
will  occupy  two  or  three  years  from  last  June,  there  is 
yet,  perhaps,  time  to  speak  of  your  plan ;  and,  to  prove 
my  sincerity,  I  shall  hastily  offer  you  a  few  hints. 

"By  modern  history,  I  understand  that  portion  of 
universal  which  relates  to  the  European  nations,  from 
the  taking  of  Constantinople  to  the  French  Revolution. 
As  there  are  no  natural  lines  of  demarcation  between 
ancient  and  modern  times,  the  commencement  must 
always,  in  some  measure,  be  arbitrary.  I  choose  the 
taking  of  Constantinople,  because  it  was  the  destruction 
of  the  last  state  that  had  been  a  member  of  the  ancient 
world.  The  Greek  empire  had  been  a  contemporary 
of  states  which  were  contemporaries  of  the  Athenian 
Republic.  After  its  destruction,  all  was  new. 

u  By  universal  history,  I  do  not  mean  a  collection  of 
the  histories  of  separate  nations,  though  the  uncritical 
compilers  of  our  Universal  History  have  used  the  words 
in  that  absurd  manner.  In  this  sense,  there  can  be  no 
universal  history.  The  histories  of  France  and  England 
continue  as  separate  as  they  were  before,  though  they  be 
printed  in  the  same  series  of  volumes.  The  universal 
history  of  modern  Europe  I  conceive  to  be  an  account  of 
such  events  as  remarkably  altered  the  position  of  Euro- 
pean nations  towards  each  other,  or  materially  affected 
the  whole  of  them,  when  considered  as  one  society.  All 

35* 


414  LIFE   OF   THE  [1808. 

occurrences  of  local  and  temporary  importance  are  ex- 
cluded ;  all  events,  merely  extraordinary  or  interesting, 
which  leave  no  permanent  effects,  can  only  be  mentioned 
as  they  illustrate  the  spirit  of  the  time.  Nothing  becomes 
the  subject  of  universal  history,  but  those  events  which 
alter  the  relations  of  the  members  of  the  European  com- 
munity, or  its  general  condition,  in  wealth,  civilisation, 
and  knowledge.  The  details  of  national  history  no  more 
belong  to  this  subject  than  the  particularities  of  English 
biography  to  the  history  of  England. 

"But  though  modern  history  opens  with  the  taking 
of  Constantinople,  it  will  be  naturally  asked  who  the  two 
belligerent  parties  on  that  occasion  were ;  and  as  every 
work  ought  to  be  complete  in  itself,  the  lectures  ought 
to  answer  that  question,  by  giving  an  introductory  view 
of  the  Mussulman  power  in  the  East,  and  the  Teutonic 
nations  in  the  West,  whose  character  and  struggles  form 
the  history  of  the  Middle  Age.  Mahomet  and  Charle- 
magne (under  whom  the  Germanic  nations  were  civilised 
enough  to  form  an  extensive  monarchy)  are  the  principal 
figures  of  this  period.  Mahomet,  by  adopting  three 
grand  errors  of  Asiatic  legislation, — the  imprisonment  of 
women,  the  incorporation  of  law  into  religion,  and  the 
religious  and  legal  regulation  of  the  detail  of  life, — ren- 
dered Arabian  literature  a  mere  ornament,  and  general 
improvement  impossible.  The  people  of  the  West  were, 
in  the  ninth  century,  more  barbarous,  but  they  were  more 
free ;  they  had  less  knowledge,  but  they  were  at  liberty 
to  advance.  As  soon  as  their  dialects  had  time  to  ripen 
into  languages,  we  everywhere  discover  symptoms  of  a 
general  movement  of  the  human  mind,  which  has  never 
since  been  interrupted.  About  the  same  time,  the  culti- 
vation of  the  Roman  law — the  beginning  of  vernacular 
poetry  in  Sicily,  in  Provence,  in  Swabia,  in  Normandy, 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.   SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  415 

and  in  Scotland ;  the  foundation  of  school  philosophy,  so 
grand  an  article  in  the  history  of  the  human  understand- 
ing; not  long  after — the  age  of  Petrarch  and  Chaucer 
— the  discovery  of  the  compass  and  of  gunpowder. 

"  These  two  last  discoveries  naturally  lead  me  to  the 
division  of  that  which  is  properly  your  subject,  being,  I 
think,  closely  connected  with  the  first  part  of  it. 

"  Modern  history  is  divided  into  certain  periods,  each 
of  which  has  a  philosophical  unity,  from  similarity  of 
character,  and  from  the  uniformity  of  the  causes  at  work, 
and  the  effects  produced.  It  has  also  a  sort  of  poetical 
unity,  because  it  may  be  considered  as  the  accomplish- 
ment of  one  great  design,  in  which  there  is  generally  one 
hero  distinguished  above  the  other  personages.  These 
periods  appear  to  be  as  follow : — 

"  I.  From  the  taking  of  Constantinople  to  the  reforma- 
tion ;  connected  with  the  two  great  discoveries  above-men- 
tioned. It  is  the  age  of  great  invention  and  progress; 
— gunpowder,  the  compass,  printing,  the  opening  of  the 
whole  surface  of  our  planet  by  Columbus  and  De  Gama 
— the  discovery  of  discoveries,  the  parent  of  all  future  dis- 
coveries, and  the  guardian  of  all  past — the  discovery  that 
every  man  might  think  for  himself — the  emancipation 
of  the  human  understanding,  under  the  appearance  of 
a  controversy  about  justification  by  faith,  by  Martin 
Luther. 

"II.  From  the  reformation  to  the  peace  of  West- 
phalia— the  age  of  religious  wars.  The  object  is  the 
legal  establishment  of  liberty  of  conscience,  and  the 
security  of  nations  against  the  yoke  of  Austria.  The 
hero  is  Gustavus  Adolphus. 

"  HI.  From  the  peace  of  Westphalia  to  the  peace  of 
Utrecht.  The  character  of  the  age  is,  that  the  under- 
standing begins  to  turn  its  activity  from  theology  te 
philosophy,  in  which  great  discoveries  are  made.  Taste 


416  LIFE    OF   THE  [1808. 

and  literature  are  cultivated.  The  object  is  to  guard 
Europe  against  the  power  of  France.  The  hero  is  King 
William. 

"  IV.  From  the  treaty  of  Utrecht  to  the  French  Revo- 
lution ;  age  of  balanced  power,  national  security,  diffused 
knowledge,  liberal  principles,  and  mild  manners ;  golden 
age  of  the  civilised  world.  Taste,  literature,  and,  com- 
paratively speaking,  even  philosophy,  are  widely  spread. 
This  diffused  civilisation  tends  to  spread  over  the  globe. 
Hence  the  colonial  and  commercial  system ;  hence  the 
appearance  of  Russia  on  the  European  theatre ;  and  in  a 
scientific  age,  a  small  power  in  the  boldest  and  most 
thinking  part  of  Germany,  by  mere  science,  becomes,  for 
a  time,  a  great  military  state.  Philosophy  is  naturally 
applied  to  new  subjects, — to  history,  to  government, 
to  commerce,  to  the  subsistence  and  wealth  of  nations ; 
the  crisis  of  the  colonial  and  commercial  system,  is  seen 
in  the  two  apparently  opposite  results  of  the  independence 
of  America  and  the  conquest  of  India.  At  last,  as  pros- 
perous commerce  produces  over-trading,  to  be  corrected 
only  by  the  ruin  of  individuals,  so  the  advancement  and 
diffusion  of  knowledge  produced  a  fatal  confidence  in 
the  extent  of  our  political  skill,  and  in  the  advances  of 
the  multitude  in  civilisation ;  hence  the  dreadful  experi- 
ment of  the  French  Revolution. 

"  The  above  is  a  hasty  sketch  of  what  seems  to  me  the 
plan  for  a  course  of  lectures  on  modern  history.  I  shall 
be  happy  if  it  afford  you  the  least  assistance.  At  least 
it  will  prove  my  wish  to  do  so. 

"English  politics  are  most  vexatious.  The  politics 
of  the  rest  of  the  world  are  desperate ;  and  it  seems  very 
probable,  that  we  shall  be  driven  from  hence  home,  if 
there  be  a  home  to  receive  us,  by  the  French  and  the 
Russians  in  a  year  or  two. 

"I  was  much  obliged  by  your  forwarding  my  letter 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  417 

to  poor  Hall,  from  whom  it  produced  a  most  singular 
and  very  affecting  answer.     Farewell. 

"  Yours,  most  truly, 

u  J.  MACKINTOSH." 


TO    BRIGADIER-GENERAL   MALCOLM.* 

"  Bombay,  July  13,  1808. 

"Mr  DEAR  GENERAL, 

•J*  •*»  H»  •!"  •*• 

"  I  thank  you  very  much  for  the  perusal  of  the  papers. 
Nothing  can  be  more  able  than  your  exposition  of  the 
progress  of  French  intrigue  in  Persia,  or  more  masterly 
than  the  sketch  of  the  policy  which  you  propose  to  pur- 
sue. A  state,  not  accustomed  to  allow  resident  mnbassadors, 
which  in  the  midst  of  war  receives  such  a  residevd,  minister 
from  one  of  the  belligerent  powers,  has  already  departed 
from  the  strict  impartiality  of  a  neutral  state.  A  refusal 
to  show  the  same  favour  to  the  opposite  belligerent, 
would  be  a  still  wider  departure.  The  deviation  would 
assume  a  more  unfriendly  character,  if  it  were  in  favour 
of  a  power  which,  having  no  ordinary  political  or  com- 
mercial business  to  transact  at  the  neutral  Court,  could 
have  no  motives  of  an  inoffensive  kind  for  sending  the 
embassy.  And,  if  it  were  at  a  time  when  projects  of 
invasion  against  the  dominions  of  the  opposite  belligerent 
were  notoriously  in  agitation ;  if  the  embassy  could,  in 
common  sense,  have  no  object  but  that  of  engaging  the 
neutral  to  promote  or  second  the  invasion ;  if  reasonable 
evidence  existed  of  a  treaty  for  that  purpose  having 
already  been  executed  ;  and  if  the  officers  of  the  bellige- 
rent power  were  employed  to  discipline  the  neutral  army, 
and  allowed  to  make  surveys,  which  must  have  a  military 

*  Then  on  an  embassy  in  Persia. 


418  LIFE   OF   THE  [1808. 

nature,  and  which  even  the  most  favoured  allies  are 
seldom  permitted  to  make ;  when  all,  or  most  of  these 
circumstances  are  combined,  it  cannot  be  doubted  that 
the  neutral  has  forfeited  his  pretensions  to  that  name 
and  shown  the  most  decisive  indications  of  hostility. 
They  certainly  amount  to  a  just  cause  of  war.  There  is, 
therefore,  no  doubt  that  it  is  a  just  and  moderate  claim — 
to  require  from  the  neutral  a  public  renunciation  of  all 
his  hostile  connexions,  a  practical  disavowal  of  the  acts 
which  indicated  enmity,  and  a  return  to  the  state  in 
which  he  has  for  ages  been  in  relation  to  both  belli- 
gerents. 

"  Nor  have  I  any  doubt  of  the  policy  of  your  public 
declaration.  I  have  told  you  why  I  think  it  just ;  and  a 
firm  tone  is  fully  as  necessary  in  situations  of  danger  as 
of  prosperity.  You  enter  Persia  with  the  only  tone 
likely  to  make  an  impression.  You  call  for  large  con- 
cessions, which  leave  sufficient  room  for  negociation. 
You  occupy  ground,  from  part  of  which  you  may,  in  the 
sequel,  safely  retreat.  You  alarm  the  imaginations  of 
the  Persians,  by  a  sort  of  ascending  scale  of  punishments, 
adapted  to  the  different  degrees  of  enmity  which  they 
may  show,  proceeding  from  mere  coldness,  through  various 
stages,  to  the  utmost  extremes  of  war.  And  it  is  cer- 
tainly politic  to  appear  anxious,  and  indeed  determined, 
to  have  a  speedy  answer ;  because  the  want  of  such  an 
appearance  would  be  a  confession  of  weakness.  No 
declarations  of  your  determination  to  demand  an  imme- 
diate decision  can  prevent  you  from  afterwards  permitting 
such  delays,  as  circumstances  may  seem  to  you  to  render 
necessary  and  desirable.  So  much  for  your  public  lan- 
guage. As  to  the  real  question  which  you  have  to  decide 
secretly  in  the  cabinet  council  of  your  own  understanding, 
whether  delay  in  Persia  be  necessarily  and  universally 
against  the  interests  of  Great  Britain,  it  is  a  question  on 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  419 

which  you  have  infinitely  greater  means  of  correct  deci- 
sion than  I  can  pretend  to,  even  if  I  were  foolish  enough, 
on  such  matters,  to  aspire  to  any  rivalship  with  a  man  of 
your  tried  and  exercised  sagacity. 

"I  should  just  venture  in  general  to  observe,  that 
delay  is  commonly  the  interest  of  the  power  which  is  on 
the  defensive.  As  long  as  the  delay  lasts  it  answers  the 
purpose  of  victory,  which,  in  that  case,  is  only  preser- 
vation. It  wears  out  the  spirit  of  enterprise  necessary 
for  assailants,  especially  such  as  embark  in  very  distant 
and  perilous  attempts.  It  familiarises  those  who  are  to 
be  attacked,  with  the  danger,  and  allows  the  first  panic 
time  to  subside.  I  must  add  that  delay  is  generally  the 
interest  of  the  weaker  party  against  the  stronger.  It 
affords  a  chance  that  circumstances  may  become  more 
favourable  ;  and  to  those  who  have  nothing  else  in  their 
favour,  it  leaves  at  least  the  '  chapter  of  accidents.'  But 
after  these  general  observations,  it  must  be  acknowledged 
that  the  selection  of  the  favourable  moment  for  pressing  or 
postponing  a  decision,  is  a  matter  of  practical  prudence, 
dependent  upon  a  thousand  circumstances,  which  can 
never  be  reduced  to  general  rules,  and  which  often  cannot 
be  known  two  days  before  the  time,  or  ten  miles  distant 
from  the  spot.  You  must  be  guided  by  your  own  vigorous 
sense,  which,  long  trained  in  political  negociations,  has 
grown  into  a  sort  of  instinct. 

"  The  reason,  as  it  appears  to  me,  which  induced  you 
to  think  the  time  of  your  arrival  a  favourable  period  for 
urging  Persia  to  immediate  decision,  was  the  change 
which  had  occurred  in  the  relations  between  France  and 
Russia.  France  could  no  longer  obtain  Georgia  for  the 
Persians  by  arms;  and  you  very  justly  thought  that 
nothing  but  the  lowest  state  of  degradation  could  induce 
Russia  so  far  to  violate  every  principle  of  her  honour  and 
policy,  as  to  abandon  a  Christian  province  to  the  Maho- 


420  LIFE   OF   THE  [1808- 

metan  yoke.  These  views  of  the  subject  were  unques- 
tionably very  just ;  and  the  only  question  is,  whether 
they  comprehend  every  part  of  it  ?  France  has  certainly 
lost  her  former  means  of  throwing  out  a  lure  to  the 
ambition  of  the  Court  of  Tehraun.  She  cannot  bribe 
them  with  Georgia.  She  has  lost  some  advantage  on  this 
side.  But  has  she  gained  more  upon  any  other?  If 
her  war  with  Russia  gave  her  the  means  of  luring  their 
ambition,  does  not  her  alliance  with  Russia  give  her  most 
powerful  means  of  exciting  their  fears  ?  They  have  been 
uniformly  vanquished  by  the  Russians,  and  they  know 
that  the  Russians  have  been  pretty  uniformly  vanquished 
by  the  French.  What  will  they  not  apprehend  from  the 
union  of  the  two  powers?  What  are  they  not  likely 
to  do  to  disarm  their  resentment  ?  Have  not  the  French 
gained  quite  as  much  on  the  side  of  terror,  as  they  have 
lost  on  that  of  rapacity  ?  And  let  it  be  considered  that 
they  have  equivalents  to  offer,  even  as  lures  to  ambition 
—  the  Pachalic  of  Bagdad  —  the  Afghaun  dominions. 
Neither  is  it  impossible  that  they  should  contrive  some 
compromise  even  on  the  apparently  unmanageable  sub- 
ject of  Georgia.  The  conquests  in  Armenia,  Daghestan, 
&c.,  may  be  restored  to  the  King  of  Persia,  and  the 
honour  of  Russia  may  be  saved  by  the  preservation  of 
the  kingdom  of  Heraclius. 

"The  French  and  Russians  united  would  have  the 
power  of  destroying  Persia.  The  terror  of  their  power  is 
therefore  a  principle  to  which  we  can  oppose  no  motive  of 
equal  force.  As  long  as  that  union  and  that  terror  last, 
I  should  doubt  the  policy  of  pressing  for  a  decision, 
which,  according  to  the  common  principles  of  human 
nature,  is  so  likely  to  be  against  us.  This  very  business 
of  Georgia  may  give  rise  to  jealousies  and  suspicions 
destructive  first  of  the  cordiality,  and  then  of  the  exist- 
ence of  the  union.  A  thousand  accidents  may  dissolve 


1808.]  BIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  421 

it.  Russia  might  become  our  friend ;  in  that  case  it  will 
not  be  denied,  that  the  time  would  be  more  favourable 
than  the  present  for  calling  on  Persia  for  decision.  I  am 
far  from  saying  that  there  might  not  be  a  disposition  pro- 
duced by  disappointed  ambition  on  the  subject  of  Georgia 
so  decisively  hostile  to  France,  that  immediate  advantage 
ought  to  be  taken  of  it.  What  I  doubt  (for  I  presume  to 
go  no  farther),  is  whether  it  be  for  our  interest  to  force  on 
the  course  of  events  in  the  present  circumstances.  You 
are  a  man  of  frank  character  and  high  spirit,  accustomed 
to  represent  a  successful  and  triumphant  government. 
You  must,  from  nature  and  habit,  be  averse  to  temporise. 
But  you  have  much  too  powerful  an  understanding  to 
need  to  be  told,  that  to  temporise  is  sometimes  absolutely 
necessary,  and  that  men  of  your  character  only  can  tem- 
porise with  effect.  When  Gentz  was  in  England  in  1803 
(during  the  peace)  he  said  to  me  'that  we  required  the 
present  system  and  the  late  ministers ;  for  nothing 
required  the  reality  and  the  reputation  of  vigour  so 
much  as  temporising.' 

"  I  have  left  myself  little  time  to  say  any  thing  more. 
The  road  by  Latakia  and  Bagdad  would  be  a  probable 
course,  were  it  not  that  the  success  of  an  expedition  by 
that  route  must  entirely  depend  on  the  accident  of  their 
eluding  the  British  squadron  in  the  Levant.  But  that 
consideration  alone  appears  to  me  of  sufficient  weight  to 
make  the  northern  road  the  most  likely,  either  by  the 
Black  Sea  or  Asia  Minor,  to  Armenia,  and  from  that 
country  either  into  northern  Persia,  or  into  the  Pachalic 
of  Bagdad,  or  perhaps  into  both.  It  is  true  that  the 
French  army  is  in  some  measure  dependent  for  its  retreat 
on  the  Russians ;  but  as  long  as  there  is  a  French  army  at 
Warsaw,  Napoleon  has,  I  fear,  too  good  counter-pledges  to 
secure  his  army  in  Asia  against  Russian  hostility.  Besides, 

VOL.  L  36 


422  LIFE   OF   THE  [1808. 

it  is  neither  his  character,  nor  the  nature  of  the  enter- 
prise, to  make  very  anxious  provisions  for  retreat.  The 
invasion  of  India  must  be  an  adventure,  where  the  inva- 
ders trust  to  fortune  and  their  swords,  and  burn  their 
ships,  or  cut  down  the  bridges  behind  them.  A  retreat 
must  be  considered  as  impossible.  To  take  precautions 
against  it  would  be  to  insure  defeat.  For  this  reason  I 
should  doubt  whether  the  time  required  be  quite  so  long, 
as  you  seem  to  think.  A  line  of  capitals  will  be  the  only 
communication  of  which  he  will  take  care  to  be  master 
—  at  Constantinople  and  Tehraun. 

"  The  state  of  animosity  between  Russia  and  Turkey 
is  not,  I  conceive,  indicative  of  any  independent  will  on 
the  part  of  the  latter,  but  is  suffered,  or  perhaps  fomented 
by  Buonaparte,  either  that  he  may  interpose  to  dictate  an 
accommodation,  or  that,  if  it  proceeds  to  hostilities,  he 
may  join  Russia,  and,  with  some  tolerable  pretext,  par- 
tition Turkey. 

"  On  principles  of  general  and  permanent  policy,  it  is, 
I  suppose,  our  interest  that  the  Euphrates  and  Tigris 
should  be  in  the  hands  of  a  weak  chief,  like  the  Pacha  of 
Bagdad,  whom  we  could,  according  to  circumstances, 
easily  overawe  or  effectually  support ;  and  it  is  not  our 
interest  that  they  should  be  in  the  hands  of  a  powerful 
prince,  such  as  the  king  of  Persia,  who,  being  master  of 
Bussora,  would  command  both  our  intercourse  with 
Europe,  and  our  whole  trade  in  the  Persian  Gulf.  It 
is  our  permanent  interest  to  maintain  a  sort  of  balance  of 
power  in  that  sea.  But  there  may  be  motives  of  present 
safety  too  powerful  and  too  urgent  to  leave  room  for  the 
consideration  of  these  somewhat  remote  dangers. 

"I  have  been  employed  for  six  days  in  writing  to 
Europe.  I  am  to-morrow  to  open  my  sessions.  I  have 
now  a  severe  headache.  I  hope,  therefore,  that  you  will 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  423 

consider  this  long  letter  as  some  proof  of  my  wish  to 
deserve  your  confidence ;  and  I  know  that  you  will  con- 
sider its  frankness  as  the  surest  mark  of  my  esteem. 
"  Ever,  my  dear  General, 

"  Yours,  most  faithfully, 

"  J.  MACKINTOSH." 

We  have  seen  with  what  anxiety  Sir  James  looked  for 
intelligence  from  his  friends  in  England.  The  residence 
of  his  son-in-law  and  daughter  at  Bagdad — a  seclusion, 
compared  with  which  Bombay  enjoyed  the  resources  of  a 
great  capital — afforded  to  him  in  turn  the  opportunity  of 
communicating  to  those,  whose  necessities  (like  Sir  Philip 
Sidney's  soldiers)  were  greater  than  his  own,  whatever  of 
amusement  and  instruction  had  reached  him  in  his  tidings 
from  home.  In  return,  it  was  through  Bagdad  that  news 
of  what  was  passing  on  the  continent  of  Europe,  particu- 
larly at  the  seats  of  the  war,  reached  him;  accompanied,  as 
it  was  sure  to  be,  by  a  Precis  of  past  events  and  present 
speculations,  executed  in  a  vein  of  political  talent  worthy 
of  western  diplomacy. 

In  much  of  Sir  James's  portion  of  this  correspondence 
transpires  the  desire  always  pervading  his  mind,  to  lead 
the  ductile  contemplations  of  youth,  not  only  to  "  visions 
of  the  fair  and  good,"  but  to  vigorous  attempts  at  embo- 
dying them  in  active  usefulness.  In  this  last  particular, 
his  exhortations  were,  in  the  present  instance,  the  more 
pointed  and  frequent;  conscious  as  he  was,  that  the 
uncommon  mental  endowments  and  brilliant  acquire- 
ments of  his  young  friend  had  not  escaped  from  the  com- 
panionship of  a  certain  fastidious  volatility  of  purpose ; 
in  which  he,  perhaps,  recognised  a  reflection  of  a  state  of 
mind  too  familiar  to  his  own  memory.  A  letter,  which 
he  wrote  to  Bagdad  shortly  after  the  departure  of  Mr. 
Kich  to  the  seat  of  his  Residency,  will  probably  be 


424  LIFE    OF   THE  [1808. 

allowed  to  be  of  a  pleasing  character.  A  few  extracts 
from  others  follow  it  —  dated  for  the  first  time  from  his 
new  residence,  situated  at  a  nearer  and  a  more  conve- 
nient distance  from  the  town  of  Bombay. 


"Parett,  8th  March,  1808. 

"Mr  DEAR  NEARCHUS,* — I  hope  that  you  have  com- 
pleted your  navigation  from  the  Sinthos  to  the  Tigris, 
and  reached  Babylon  with  safety,  but  without  meeting 
with  Alexander ;  though  it  be  very  difficult  to  go  any- 
where without  meeting  the  influence  of  his  power  or  the 
terror  of  his  arms.  To  speak  plain  English,  we  heard  of 
the  safe  arrival  of  your  squadron  •}•  at  Muscat,  on  the 
19th  ult.,  and  of  the  theatricals  of  the '  Albion/  in  a  letter 
from  Seton  to  Newnham ;  and  your  laziness  left  us  to 
conjecture,  from  his  silence  about  you,  that  you  had  not 
been  devoured  by  any  of  the  sea-monsters  that  haunt 
the  Erythrean  sea. 

"About  this  time  we  suppose  you  to  have  passed 
through  the  English  flotilla  on  the  Pasitigris,  and  to  have 
reached  the  British  camp,  where,  even  in  these  days  of 
discomfiture  and  disgrace, '  Field-Marshal'  Manesty  still 
maintains  the  ancient  renown  of  Cressy  and  Agincourt.  J 
If  you  are  not  (as  I  fear  you  are)  more  a  cosmopolite 
than  a  patriot,  you  scarcely  could  tear  yourself  from  a 

*  The  name  of  Alexander's  General,  who  preceded  him  in  the  same 
voyage. 

t  A  seventy-four  and  two  frigates,  under  the  command  of  Captain 
Ferrier,  had  been  ordered  by  the  Bombay  government  to  cruise  between 
Bombay  and  Muscat  in  search  of  some  French  men-of-war  reported  to 
have  been  seen  in  that  direction. 

J  Mr.  Manesty  was  the  East  India  Company's  Resident  at  Bussora. 
He  was  an  amiable  but  eccentric  man,  and  had  persuaded  himself  that 
Buonaparte  was  on  his  march  overland  to  attack  India  by  the  way 
of  Arabia,  and  that  Bussora  was  to  be  his  Pultowa. 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.   SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  425 

place  so  full  of  the  glory  of  your  country.  But  with  your 
lukewarm  patriotism  I  suppose  you,  in  a  week  more,  to 
embark  in  the  Nebuchadnezzar,  and  about  the  beginning 

of  April,  to  seat  M on  the  throne  of  Semiramis. 

We  have  been,  and  shall  be  travelling  with  you  through 
all  the  stages  of  your  progress ;  and  I  assure  you  that 
you  never  had  either  a  more  constant  attendant  or  a 
kinder  companion  than  my  fancy. 

"  Our  tranquillity,  after  our  first  deliverance  from  your 
rantipoUsm,  required  some  patience  to  endure.  We  all, 

including  F ,  wished  often  for  the  lfrescU  jabber  ; '  * 

and  though,  while  you  were  here, 

'  "We  wished  you  full  ten  times  a  day  at  old  Nick,  — 
Yet,  missing  your  mirth  and  agreeable  vein, 
As  often  we  wished  to  have  Rich  back  again.' 

Even  l  Serena '  f  is  agitated  when  she  speaks  of  c  M — s 

Bungalow,'  and  F remembers  it  for  'many  a  dish 

of  fun.'  Our  regret  at  a  permanent  separation  would 
be  so  sincere,  that  we  have  seen  too  much  of  you; — if  we 
are  not  to  see  much  more.  I  know  not  where  your  fancy 
now  chooses  her  asylum  from  Buonaparte — whether  you 
'  brood  o'er  Egypt  with  your  watery  wings,'  and  are  still 
attracted  by  the  sonorous  name  of  Abumandour,  or  whe- 
ther you  turn  your  mind  to  the  throne  of  Belus  and 
Chosroes.  Wherever  you  are,  in  reality  or  in  idea,  be 
assured  that  you  will  have  friends  among  the  fugitives  of 
the  upper  Missouri.  J 

"  We  received,  the  other  day,  sets  of  English  news- 

*  Mr.  Rich  frequently,  in  conversation,  made  use  of  the  Italian 
expression  "  siamo  freschi"  from  whence  he  got  the  nickname  of 
'  Freschi-Jabber,"  among  Sir  James's  younger  children. 

t  A  mild  and  gentle  child,  whom  he  thus  distinguished. 

J  Where  was  his  own  fancied  retreat  from  Buonaparte,  at  that  time 
just  beginning  his  destructive  career. 

36* 


426  LIFE    OF   THE  [1808. 

papers  by  our  ships  arrived  at  Madras,  which  explain  the 
details  of  the  progress  of  destruction  from  July  to  the 
middle  of  September.  The  dreadful  battle  of  Friedland, 
on  the  20th  June,  produced  an  interview  between  Alex- 
ander and  Buonaparte,  which  ended  in  the  peace  of  Tilsit, 
on  the  9th  July.  Buonaparte,  as  usual,  so  mixed  wheed- 
ling with  menaces,  that  Alexander  half  persuaded  himself, 
that  he  was  triumphant,  when  he  was  most  humiliated. 
Indeed  the  situation  threatened  so  loudly,  that  the  con- 
queror had  only  to  wheedle.  He  persuaded  Alexander 
to  offer  his  mediation  for  a  peace  with  England.  He 
flattered  him  with  the  idea  of  reviving  the  principle  of 
the  armed  neutrality,  the  favourite  scheme  of  the  great 
Catherine.  The  mediation  was  such  as  he  knew  must 
lead  to  a  part  in  hostilities  ;  and  the  weak  mind  of 
Alexander  naturally  took  refuge  in  the  idea  of  dictating 
a  maritime  peace  to  England,  as  a  consolation  for  having 
a  continental  peace  dictated  to  him  by  France.  Ill  suc- 
cess had  discredited  the  measures  of  the  English,  or  more 
properly  the  anti-Gallican,  party  then  in  administration 
at  Petersburgh.  The  weak  Prince  thought  he  should  be 
safe  if  he  changed  those  who  had  been  unfortunate.  The 
French  party,  now  recruited  by  fear  and  selfishness,  were 
called  into  power,  and  they  confirmed  the  illusion  of  their 
sovereign.  He  has  now  lost  all  foreign  influence,  and 
his  future  wars  must  be  in  defence  of  his  snows. 

£#$£'• 

"The  prospect  on  the  side  of  America  is  gloomy. 
The  number  of  British  cruisers  on  the  coasts,  and  in  the 
harbours  of  that  country,  was  a  sure  source  of  vexation 
and  quarrel.  All  maritime  force,  especially  one  so  long 
triumphant  as  the  British,  is  apt  to  be  insolent ;  and  it 
was  in  the  order  of  nature  that  quarrels  should  be  fre- 
quent between  seamen  and  the  populace  of  sea-ports; 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  427 

particularly  when  they  both  speak  the  same  language 
without  being  of  the  same  nation.  Some  sailors,  said  by 
the  Americans  to  be  originally  their  countrymen,  had 
deserted,  or  escaped  from  the  British  ships  of  war ;  and 
Admiral  Berkeley  was  so  provoked  at  some  mobbish 
triumphal  processions,  as  to  give  orders  for  taking  these 
deserters,  or  fugitives,  by  force  from  a  frigate  of  the 
United  States.  They  were  so  taken ;  and  the  President 
of  the  United  States  issued  a  proclamation,  in  conse- 
quence, forbidding  all  armed  British  ships  from  entering 
American  ports;  with  the  professed  hope,  however,  that 
this  measure  might  not  only  preclude  the  necessity,  but 
even  prevent  the  occasions,  of  hostility — which,  on  our 
part,  it  must  be  owned  it  would  be  rather  inconvenient 
for  England  to  commence  against  the  country  which  is 
the  only  market  for  her  commodities,  or  the  only  channel 
by  which  they  can  flow  into  other  countries.  These  are 
all  our  news  down  to  the  13th  September. 

"  As  I  was  writing  to  you,  part  of  whose  profession  it 
is  to  make  good  Precis,  I  have  abridged  the  news.  You 
of  course  will  not  abridge  so  much,  nor  will  you  inter- 
sperse so  many  reflections;  though  I,  considering  my 
general  habit,  have  been  remarkably  sparing  of  them. 

"  And  now,  my  dear  Rich,  allow  me,  with  the  liberty 
of  warm  affection,  earnestly  to  exhort  you  to  exert  every 
power  of  your  mind  in  the  duties  of  your  station.  There 
is  something  in  the  seriousness,  both  of  business  and  of 
science,  of  which  your  vivacity  is  impatient.  The  bril- 
liant variety  of  your  attainments  and  accomplishments 
does,  I  fear,  flatter  you  into  the  conceit,  that  you  may 
indulge  your  genius,  and  pass  your  life  in  amusement ; 
while  you  smile  at  those  who  think,  and  at  those  who 
act.  But  this  would  be  weak  and  ignoble.  The  success 
of  your  past  studies  ought  to  show  you  how  much  you 


428  LIFE    OF   THE  [1808. 

may  yet  do,  instead  of  soothing  you  with  the  reflection, 
how  much  you  have  done. 

'  Think  nothing  gained,  he  cries,  till  nought  remain,' 

ought  to  be  your  motto. 

"  Habits  of  seriousness  of  thought  and  action  are 
necessary  to  the  duties,  to  the  importance,  and  to  the 
dignity  of  human  life.  What  is  amiable  gaiety  at  twenty- 
four,  might  run  the  risk,  if  it  was  unaccompanied  by 
other  things,  of  being  thought  frivolous  and  puerile  at 
forty-four.  I  am  so  near  forty-four,  that  I  can  give  you 
pretty  exact  news  of  that  dull  country;  which,  though  it 
be  almost  as  bad  as i  Yankee  land,'  *  yet  ought  to  interest 
you,  as  you  are  travelling  towards  it,  and  must  pass 
through  it. 

*  *  *  *  * 

"I  very  much  wish  you  to  adhere,  as  much  as  circum- 
stances will  allow,  to  the  order  of  study  which  I  sketched 
in  the  paper  I  gave  you  soon  after  your  arrival  at  Parell. 
I  hope  you  will  profit  by  my  errors.  I  was  once  ambi- 
tious to  have  made  you  a  much  improved  edition  of 
myself.  If  you  had  stayed  here,  I  should  have  laboured 
to  do  so  in  spite  of  your  impatience ;  as  it  is,  I  heartily 
pray  that  you  may  make  yourself  something  much  better. 
You  have  excellent  materials ;  and,  with  all  your  love  of 
the  fine  arts,  you  will,  I  am  sure,  acknowledge,  that  the 
noblest  of  them  all  is  the  art  of  forming  a  vigorous,  heal  thy, 
and  beautiful  mind.  It  is  a  work  of  unwearied  care ; 
which  must  be  constantly  retouched  through  every  part 
of  life.  But  the  toil  becomes  every  day  more  pleasant, 
and  the  success  more  sure.  I  have  much  too  good  an 
opinion  of  you,  and  too  warm  a  solicitude  for  your  happi- 

*  Alluding  to  his  correspondent's  dislike  to  America. 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  429 

ness,  to  make  any  apology  for  moralising.  I  do  not  think 
I  ever  can  write  to  you  without  a  little  preaching.  ' 11 
est  permis  (Fennuyer  en  morale  cTici  jusqu'  a  Constantinople! 
You  never  will  be  so  perfect,  as  I  know  you  might  be ; 
and  as  I,  therefore,  shall  always  be,  in  some  measure, 
dissatisfied  at  your  not  being. 

"  Bombay  supplies  little  news ;  and,  such  as  they  are, 

I  believe  M —  will  tell  them  to  M — .     General 

died  one  morning  at  the  military  board, — the  only  military 
death  to  which  a  Bombay  General  is  likely  to  be  exposed. 
The  claims  of  all  the  other  Generals  came  into  play, 
( soldats  sous  Alexandre,  Rois  aprds  sa  mori' 

"Lord  Minto  has  given  Malcolm  a  commission  to 
Persia,  with  authority  over  all  the  Residencies  in  the 
Gulf  of  Persia.  Malcolm  is  coming  round  here  in  Sir 
E.  Pellew's  ship;  but,  as  Sir  Harford  Jones  may,  with 
royal  credentials,  be  before-hand  with  him,  it  is  possible 
that  he  will  not  go  beyond  Bombay.  If  he  goes,  I  shall 
write  to  you  by  him. 

"  I  forgot  to  give  M —  the  German  Dictionary ;  and, 
small  as  my  hopes  are  of  her  and  you,  in  that  department, 
send  it  by  the  ( Eliza,'  that  the  German  books  in  her 
1  Bibliotheque'  may  not  be  a  mockery.  Let  me  recom- 
mend, rather  earnestly,  the  list  of  books  I  gave  you, 
before  I  went  to  Malabar.  I  shall  expect  Hartley  and 
Price  soon  back,  with  your  observations  upon  them.  I 
have  ordered  out  a  box  of  books  for  you  from  England. 

"  Write  to  me  very  often,  and  very  long  letters. 
"  Farewell,  my  dear  Rich, 

"  Blessing  and  love  to  poor  M — , 

«J.  M." 


430  LIFE    OF    THE  [1808. 

"  Tarala  (a  Sanscrit  compound,  denoting  Palm  Green,) 
"  Sunday,  Ilth  September,  1808. 

"My  DEAR  RICH, — I  meant  on  the  present  occasion 
to  have  written  you  a  long  and  elaborate  letter ;  but  as 
Johnson  would  say,  'What  are  the  purposes  of  man? 
I  have  been  disappointed  by  those  Sunday  visiters,  who 
are  accustomed  to  disturb  even  the  distant  tranquillity  of 
Parell.' 

"  The  bustle  of  removal  has  left  me  scarce  a  quiet  or 
unoccupied  moment  for  the  last  fortnight.  I  was  most 
unseasonably  called  to  hold  a  court  yesterday ;  and  I  was 
therefore  obliged  to  put  off,  till  Sunday,  my  letter  to 
you,  though  I  foresaw  the  interruptions  to  which  I  might 
be  exposed.  They  have  been  so  frequent,  and  the  visit- 
ations so  long,  that  I  have  only  the  dregs  of  my  mind, 
and  of  the  afternoon,  left.  Such  as  they  are  you  must 
take  them. 


"  You  are,  in  this  respect,  more  fortunate ;  as  I  hope 
you  will  be  in  all  others.  You  came  here  so  early  as 
to  have  made  few  sacrifices  of  friendship  and  society  at 
home.  You  can  afford  a  good  many  years  for  making  a 
handsome  fortune,  and  still  return  home  young.  You  do 
not  feel  the  force  of  the  word  quite  so  much  as  I  could 
wish ;  but  for  the  present  let  me  hope  that  the  prospect 
of  coming  to  one  who  has  such  an  affection  for  you  as  I 
have,  will  give  your  country  some  of  the  attractions  of 
home.  If  you  can  be  allured  to  it  by  the  generous  hope 
of  increasing  the  enjoyments  of  my  old  age,  you  will  soon 
discover  in  it  sufficient  excellences  to  love  and  admire ; 
and  it  will  become  to  you,  in  the  full  force  of  the  term, 
a  home. 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  431 

"  I  long  to  hear  some  particulars  of  your  progress  in 
business  and  in  study. 

***** 

Notwithstanding  the  investigation  in  the  neighbourhood 
of  Hilla  by  Pietro  della  Valle,  Niebuhr  and  Beauchamp, 
much  remains  to  be  done  respecting  the  antiquities  of 
Babylon.  Major  Rennell  (Geography  of  Herodotus, 
p.  388)  says,  that  'the  position  and  extent  of  the  city 
walls  might  probably  be  ascertained  even  at  this  day,  as 
both  the  rampart  and  the  ditch  must  have  left  visible 
traces.  The  delineation  and  description  of  the  site  and 
remains,  would  prove  one  of  the  most  curious  pieces  of 
antiquity  that  has  been  exhibited  in  modern  times.'* 
This  is  an  object  worthy  of  your  curiosity  and  talents. 
Your  talent  for  drawing  will  be  of  important  service.  A 
place  called  Makloube,  or  topsy-turvy ,  according  to  Beau- 
champ,  about  a  league  north  of  Hilla,  contains  the  greatest 
mass  of  ruins.  There  earthen  vessels,  engraved  marbles, 
and  even  a  statue  as  large  as  life,  have  been  found.  What 
invaluable  antiquities  there  would  be  if  you  could  find 
any  such !  Makloube  or  Babel,  Broussa,  and  Kaides,  or 
Al  Kadder,  are  said,  by  Beauchamp,  to  have  remarkable 
ruins.  The  last  is  in  the  desert ;  and  travellers  appear  to 
have  been  hitherto  deterred  from  going  to  it.  The  wes- 
tern side  of  the  Euphrates,  containing  so  large  a  part  of 
the  ancient  city,  and,  among  other  remarkable  edifices,  the 
palace,  appears  to  have  been  little,  if  at  all,  explored. 
Pietro  della  Valle  and  Beauchamp  have  chiefly  examined 
the  eastern,  and  particularly  the  great  mass  of  ruins,  sup- 
posed to  be  the  tower  of  Belus. 

"Do  not  forget  the  Epic  poem  of  the  Arabs.  It  is 
far  more  important  that  you  should  give  an  account  of  it 

*  The  two  '  Memoirs  on  Babylon,'  subsequently  published  by  Mr. 
Rich,  which  so  fully  accomplished  this  object,  are  well  known  to  all 
interested  in  the  study  of  Eastern  antiquities. 


432  LIFE   OF   THE  [1808. 

to  the  public,  than  that  a  copy  should  slumber  on  the 
shelves  of  the  East  India  Company's  library.  Do  not 
neglect  the  Chaldees  and  the  Courdish  language. 

$  sjs  sj:  *  & 

"I  suppose  that  M —  has  mentioned  all  the  Bombay 
news ;  and  that  she  has  given  you  a  description  of  Tarala, 
especially  of  the  library,  which  it  is  very  little  exaggera- 
tion to  call  magnificent.  It  is  so  delightful  a  room  that 
it  requires  all  the  repulsive  powers  of  India  to  drive  me 
from  it.  My  books  must  not  be  again  so  lodged.  I  do 
not  know  how  they  will  feel  when  they  are  degraded, 
as  I  fear  they  must  be  in  two  years,  to  a  dark  back  parlour 
in  London.  Erskine  still  ministers  in  the  temple  of  tran- 
quillity. 

"  I  wrote  to  M —  lately.  I  have  now  only  to  send  my 
love  and  blessings  to  you  both." 

15th  Sept. 

"  Though  it  is  only  four  days  since  I  wrote  you  a  long, 
though  very  hurried  letter;  yet  as  there  is  now  an 
opportunity  of  sending  the  letter  for  you,  just  arrived 
from  England,  I  hasten  to  add  to  it  some  little  contri- 
butions towards  your  amusement;  and  I  gladly  take 
every  occasion  of  assuring  you  of  iny  most  affectionate 
remembrance.  The  letter  was  by  the i  Alexander,'  which 
arrived  here  the  evening  before  last.  'The  Ambigus' 
contain  some  interesting  reports  on  the  progress  of 
science,  especially  one  by  Cuvier,  which  is  admirable. 
The  commercial  report,  at  the  end  of  the  '  Athenaeum,' 
contains  a  very  neat  abstract  of  the  most  forcible  objec- 
tions to  the  strange  commercial  experiment  made  by  our 
'  Orders  in  Council.'  Notwithstanding  the  short  time 
which  we  have  had  for  the  perusal,  I  should  have  sent  you 
a  set  of  London  newspapers,  if  I  had  not  been  fearful  that 
neither  you  or  M —  feel  any  interest  about  British  trans- 
actions. I  am  sorry  that  neither  of  you  feel  so  strong 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  433 

an  interest  as  I  wish  you  to  do.  I  wish,  for  my  sake,  you 
would  learn  to  feel  a  little  more.  I  shall  probably  send 
you  some  by  next  opportunity,  by  way  of  experiment. 

"  My  friend  Sharp,  of  whom  you  perhaps,  and  M — • 
certainly,  have  often  heard  me  speak,  has  greatly  distin- 
guished himself,  by  an  excellent  speech  against  the 
Copenhagen  expedition  in  the  House  of  Commons,  on 
the  23rd  of  March. 

"  Ireland  is,  I  fear,  dreadfully  Frenchified,  and  almost 
ready  for  general  insurrection,  on  the  appearance  of 
Buonaparte's  troops. 

5ji  Sj»  H»  v  *S» 

"  I  shall  not  plague  you  with  any  more  admonitions, 
nor  importune  you  by  inquiring  into  the  progress  of  your 
business  or  studies ;  of  which  I  hope  I  shall  soon  have 
satisfactory  reports. 

"  General  Spencer  is  said  to  have  gone  with  a  British 
force  to  re-occupy  Egypt,  at  least  Alexandria.  As 
Buonaparte  seems  at  present  to  think  of  the  partition  of 
Turkey,  there  may  be  a  short  interval  of  peace,  or  even 
alliance,  between  us  and  Turkey,  previous  to  the  final 
annihilation  of  the  Ottoman  empire.  I  think  it  is  not 
improbable  that  the  Pachalic  of  Bagdad  may  be  given 
to  Persia,  as  a  compensation  for  Georgia,  &c.  I  wish 
you  to  keep  in  view  that,  and  many  other  possible  cases, 
which  render  it  highly  expedient  for  you  to  be  always 
prepared  for  a  rapid  retreat.  Pasley*  was  very  nearly 
made  prisoner  at  Shirauz.  Your  vigilance,  and  the  help 
of  the  '  Nebuchadnezzar,'f  will,  I  hope,  protect  you  from 
a  similar  fate.  Do  not  slight  this  advice. 

"  Erskine  breakfasted  here  this  morning.  He  always 
thinks  of  you  most  kindly." 

*  Captain  Charles  Pasley,  attached  to  the  mission  in  Persia, 
t  The  yacht  attached  to  the  Residency. 
VOL.  I.  37 


434  LIFE    OF   THE  [1808. 


"  2Sth  Sept. 

"Though  I  have  written  to  you  twice  within  the 
fortnight,  and,  consequently,  can  have  very  little  to  say ; 
yet  partly  for  the  sake  of  rule, — never  to  let  a  vessel  go 
without  a  letter — and  partly, — indeed  much  more,  to 
express  the  pleasure  which  I  received  from  your  letters 
of  July  and  August,  I  now  sit  down  to  write  what  must 
be  a  hurried  letter,  as  I  have  only  two  hours'  notice  of 
the  sailing  of  the  i  Fury.' 

"  Your  letters  gave  me  the  greatest  pleasure.  I  was 
delighted  to  find,  that  you  had  so  soon  discovered  such  a 
mine  of  European  intelligence,  and  that  you  had  worked 
it  so  judiciously.  All  your  abridgments  of  news  were 
perfectly  well  done. 


"  I  hope  you  do  nothing  in  your  zeal  to  communicate 
with  Malta  and  Constantinople,  which  can  attract  the 
attention  of  the  Turks,  and  still  more  of  the  French,  to 
your  measures.  Infinite  caution  is  necessary  to  elude 
the  vigilance  of  the  last,  which  will  be  naturally  roused  by 
the  arrival  of  a  new  English  Resident  at  Bagdad.  They 
will  not  suppose  that  you  are  come  to  explore  the  ruins  of 
Babylon.  I  wish  you  had  told  me  the  particulars  of  your 
machinery,  that  I  might  have  employed  a  few  hours  of 
my  tranquil  rides  on  Sir  Charles,*  in  meditating  on  the 
dangers  to  which  it  is  most  exposed,  and  on  the  means 
by  which  it  might  be  secured  and  improved. —  Do  so 
still,  it  may  not  be  too  late. 

"I  observe,  with  pleasure,  that  you  can  smile  at  our 
apprehensions  for  your  security.     Far  be  it  from  me  to 

*  Sir  James's  riding  horse,  which,  from  its  colour,  he  called  Sir 
Charles  Grey. 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  435 

fill  your  mind  with  unnecessary  gloom ;  but  I  must  say, 
that  the  mere  calm,  or  even  cheerfulness  of  the  scene 
around  you,  is  no  sufficient  security  against  the  perils, 
which  I  only  wish  you  to  guard  against,  without  painfully 
apprehending.  If  ever  such  danger  were  to  come,  it  must 
come  suddenly;  and  the  moment  before  must  be  as  calm 
and  cheerful  as  any  other  part  of  life.  You  know  long 
before  this  time  the  details  of  the  conspiracy  to  seize 
Pasley ;  and  you  also  know  the  insidious  proposal  made  to 
him  to  disgrace  himself  and  his  nation  in  such  a  manner, 
as  would  have  furnished  the  most  specious  pretexts  for  his 
imprisonment,  if  not  for  something  more.  This  was  in 
the  midst  of  civility  and  apparent  friendship.  You  know 
how  much  Turks  differ  from  Persians ;  and  you  must  see 
that  the  French  are  perfectly  willing  to  avail  themselves 
of  the  perfidy  and  barbarity  of  these  oriental  allies. 
General  Malcolm  will  now  return  to  the  Gulf,  and  may 
adopt  measures,  which  will  not  diminish  the  necessity  of 
vigilance  and  caution  on  your  part. 


"I  rejoice  that  M —  takes  exercise,  and  that  she 
despises  foolish  prejudice  enough  to  court  health  even 
by  bestriding  a  donkey  in  a  Turkish  dress.  I  earnestly 
expect  her  to  continue  the  exercise  of  the  mind  and 
body,  and  thus  to  preserve  the  health  and  increase  the 
strength  of  both.  We  are  delighted  at  the  account  you 
both  give  of  your  life.  It  is  so  reasonable,  that  it  deserves 
to  be  happy,  as  I  heartily  hope  it  will  long  continue 
to  be. 

"We  are  very  agreeably  settled  in  our  new  house, 
and  Lady  M.  has  hitherto  almost  entirely  escaped  her 
autumnal  enemy.*  I  have  great  hopes  she  will  weather 

*  Intermittent  fever. 


436  LIFE    OF   THE  [1808. 

the  season.    In  about  six  weeks  I  shall  probably  take  an 
excursion  to  Hyderabad,  and  perhaps  to  Calcutta,  if  I 
find  it  possible  to  return  within  a  tolerable  time. 
***** 

"I  send  Vauvenargues.  Pray  read  him  frequently, 
and  master  him  thoroughly.  Some  of  his  remarks,  both 
on  life  and  literature,  are  most  admirable.  Whatever 
part  of  the  world  may  be  my  residence,  nothing  shall 
ever  be  wanting  on  my  part,  which  can  contribute  to  your 
solid  comfort  or  temporary  amusement. 

"  I  am  very  much  pleased,  both  with  the  news  con- 
tained in  your  two  last  despatches,  and  with  your  man- 
ner of  conveying  it.  Your  Precis  were  both  very  good, 
•especially  that  of  November  15th.  In  general,  the 
result  of  your  last  intelligence  is,  that  the  Spaniards 
have  behaved  nobly,  but  that  Europe  has  not  answered 
their  call.  Their  insurrection  had  lasted  four  months 
without  a  finger  wagged  on  the  continent  to  support 
them.  Without  continental  support,  they  must  be 
crushed.  Their  example  does  not  seem  to  have  pro- 
duced a  mutinous  movement  in  a  single  parish  of  the 
Corsican  empire.  Buonaparte  seems  to  have  completely 
duped  the  Emperor  of  Russia.  The  moment  for  action 
is  suffered  to  pass  away.  Buonaparte  will  amuse  the 
northern  powers  with  as  many  pacific  professions  and 
offers  as  they  please,  till  he  subdues  the  poor  Spaniards. 
Then  the  turn  of  the  north  will  come.  I  know  not  who 
your  informant  is  at  Constantinople,  but  he  certainly 
flatters  when  he  says  that  Adair's  entry  was  prevented 
only  by  the  sedition ;  for  it  appears  by  Latour  Mau- 
bourg's*  letter,  that  Adair  had  been  waiting  a  month 
at  the  Dardanelles  for  admission.  It  appears  to  me 
that  the  Porte  is  afraid  either  to  receive  or  to  dismiss 

*  The  French  ambassador  to  the  Porte. 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  437 

him.  They  were  dissatisfied  with  France  for  not  having 
delivered  them  from  Russia,  and  hold  out  Adair  to  the 
French,  to  stimulate  their  interference  with  Russia. 
They  wait  for  events;  and  will  ultimately  receive  or 
dismiss  Adair,  according  to  the  course  of  things  in 
Europe. 

"Before  I  quit  the  despatches  let  me  tell  you,  that 
'meet  your  approbation'  is  a  slang  phrase,  not  fit  for 
public  despatches  or  letters ;  and  that  '  sincerely  hope,' 
though  a  common,  is  an  incorrect  expression.  Sincerity 
belongs  to  the  expression  of  feelings,  not  to  the  feelings 
themselves.  A  man  may  declare  or  promise  sincerely, 
but  he  cannot  sincerely  love  or  hate,  hope  or  fear.  In 
these  cases,  he  may  be  sincere  in  his  professions  of  love 
or  hatred,  of  hope  or  fear ;  but  the  feelings  themselves 
have  nothing  to  do  with  sincerity  or  insincerity. 

£  4>  ]£  £  $  Ifc 

u  I  must  postpone  writing  to  Paris  till  the  next  vessel. 
Upon  my  answer,  or  upon  Adair's  negociations,  it  must 
depend,  whether  I  shall  venture  overland ;  and  upon  that 
must  depend,  whether  I  shall  see  you  before  our  meeting 
in  England.  At  any  rate,  I  shall  always  remain,  my 
dear  Rich,  most  faithfully  and  affectionately  yours." 

"  29th  March,  1809. 

"We  received,  about  three  weeks  ago,  your  most 
welcome  private  and  public  communications.  The 
long-suspended  mark  of  Zeitung  on  the  Frankfort 
journals,  so  valuable,  though  so  scanty,  and  so  slavish, 
once  more  rejoiced  my  Quidnunc  heart,  and  gave  me 
hopes  that  you  may  be  able  to  send  me  a  set  for  myself, 
during  the  remainder  of  my  stay  in  India,  which  I  hope 
may  be  short.  The  peace  with  Turkey  has  now  given 
me  very  serious  thoughts  of  going  by  Bagdad  and 
Constantinople.  I  have  now  great  hopes  of  being 

37* 


438  LIFE    OF   THE  [1808. 

relieved  between  September  and  December,  though  I 
shall  have  no  decisive  information  till  the  arrival  of  the 
Bombay  and  China  Fleet  in  the  end  of  May.  I  have 
now  time,  and  no  more  than  time,  to  receive  from  you 
such  exact  and  detailed  intelligence  respecting  the 
journey  from  Bagdad  to  Constantinople,  as  might  finally 
determine  my  choice. 

#  #  *  #  # 

"We  had  thoughts  of  sending  poor  M — *  to  you  on 
a  visit,  which  was  not  quite  voluntary.  She  has  had  very 
alarming  symptoms  of  an  attack  on  her  chest,  which, 
in  Dr.  Kier's  opinion,  make  it  dangerous  for  her  to 
monsoon  it  here.  In  looking  out  for  a  dry  climate,  as 
moisture  is  the  grand  mischief,  we  naturally  thought 
of  Bagdad,  and  we  had  almost  determined  that  Miss  J — 
and  M —  should  be  carried  to  Bussora  in  the  '  Prince  of 
Wales;'  and  from  Bussora,  under  Joshua  Allen's  convoy, 
to  Bagdad.  But  a  fortnight  in  the  yacht  has  wonder- 
fully improved  her  health ;  and  General  Malcolm  makes 
a  terrible  report  of  the  inconveniences,  and  even  hazards, 
of  a  voyage  up  the  Tigris  in  the  end  of  May.  Dr.  Kier 
has  therefore  this  morning  changed  her  destination  to 
Madras;  whither  she  will  probably  sail  with  the  Mal- 
colms in  about  a  fortnight. 

H:  *  *  *  * 

"I  send  you  the  'Dizzionario  Istorico,'  twenty-eight 
volumes;  which,  besides  being  a  convenient  book  of 
reference,  will  be  Italian  prose,  and  help  to  keep  M —  in 
exercise.  The  box  will  likewise  contain  i  Corinne,' 
which  I  hope  will  charm  you. 

"  I  have  such  hopes  of  conversing  with  you,  in  nine 
or  ten  months,  about  your  literary  projects,  that  I  shall 
not  think  it  necessary  to  say  any  thing  of  them  at  pre- 

*  His  second  daughter. 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  439 

sent.     Both  I  and  General  Malcolm  think  your  paper  on 
Turkish  diplomacy  excellent." 

The  following  letters,  addressed  to  two  old  and  valued 
friends,  will  be  the  last  with  which  the  reader's  atten- 
tion will  be  tried. 


TO   MRS.    JOHN   TAYLOR,   NORWICH. 

"Bombay,  Oct.  10th,  1808. 

"My  DEAR  MRS.  TAYLOR, — I  rejoice  that  Montagu's 
kind,  though  unauthorised  importunity,  has  procured  me 
the  pleasure  of  a  second  letter  from  you.  I  know  the 
value  of  your  letters.  They  rouse  my  mind  on  subjects 
which  interest  us  in  common — friends,  children,  litera- 
ture, and  life.  Their  moral  tone  cheers  and  braces  me. 
I  ought  to  be  made  permanently  better  by  contemplating 
a  mind  like  yours,  which  seems  more  exclusively  to 
derive  its  gratifications  from  its  duties,  than  almost  any 
other.  Your  active  kindness  is  a  constant  source  of  cheer- 
fulness; and  your  character  is  so  happily  constituted, 
that  even  the  misfortunes  of  those  who  are  dear  to  you, 
by  exciting  the  activity  of  your  affection,  almost  heal 
the  wounds  which  they  would  otherwise  have  inflicted. 
The  gladness  naturally  produced  by  the  efforts  of  inge- 
nious and  active  kindness,  is  the  balm  appointed  to  be 
poured  into  the  wounds  of  sympathy.  This  is  one  of 
the  most  beautiful  processes  exhibited  by  the  healing 
force  of  nature.  It  leaves  barren  sensibility  without 
remedy,  and  reserves  the  cure  for  useful  kindness. 
Selfishness,  foolish  and  shallow,  knows  no  such  joys. 
Indolent  pity  is  not  worthy  of  them.  They  are  to  be 
enjoyed  only  by  industrious  benevolence,  which  requires 
a  vigorous  understanding  and  a  decisive  character. 

"  Nothing  short  of  your  letter  could  have  betrayed 


440  LIFE    OF   THE  [1808. 

me  into  this  strain.  It  would  now,  I  believe,  be  ridi- 
culed under  the  name  of  sentiment.  The  dreadful 
disappointment  of  the  French  Revolution,  and  the  re- 
action of  the  general  mind  produced  by  it,  have  made 
many  things  unpopular  besides  liberty.  Coarseness  and 
barbarity  seem  to  be  eagerly  sought,  in  order  to  be  as 
far  as  possible  from  the  refinement  and  humanity  which 
were  fashionable  before  the  Revolution.  Cruelty  and 
perfidy  are  praised  as  vigour ;  the  fall  of  governments 
is  ascribed  to  their  benevolence  instead  of  their  feeble- 
ness; the  stability  of  tyranny  is  not  imputed  to  the 
firmness  and  vigour  which  the  tyrant  too  often  has,  but 
to  his  ferocity ;  the  beneficence  of  individuals  is  laughed 
at  as  hypocritical  or  visionary ;  that  of  men  in  authority 
is  condemned  as  a  prelude  to  anarchy.  Eloquence  is 
rejected  as  the  talent  of  demagogues ;  and  all  observa- 
tions on  the  feelings  which  are  the  finer  springs  of 
action,  especially  if  they  be  written  or  spoken  with  sen- 
sibility, are  sneered  at  as  sentiment.  As  to  philosophy, 
indifference  is  succeeding  to  metaphysical  enthusiasm, 
even  in  Germany.  The  arts  which  produce  beauty 
cannot  exist,  as  you  observe  most  justly,  without  the 
dignity  of  moral  sentiment.  War,  the  physical  sciences, 
and  the  mechanical  arts,  seem  likely  to  be  left.  This 
will  be  rather  a  homely  state  of  society.  No  sentiment 
of  a  powerful  and  grand  sort  seems  to  gain  ground  but 
devotion.  You  will  see  in  the  wonderful '  Corinne,'  how 
the  reaction  drives  Frenchmen  of  letters  to  a  poetical 
religion;  and  Mr.  Taylor*  will  tell  you,  that  in 
Germany  there  are  many  symptoms  of  a  mystical  philo- 
sophy. Our  men  of  letters  in  England  show  no  marks 
of  becoming  devout,  but  the  devout  are  becoming  let- 
tered. In  l  Foster's  Essays'  and  the  '  Eclectic  Review/ 

*  William  Taylor,  Esq. 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR    JAMES    MACKINTOSH.  441 

you  see  the  devout,  who  now  number  among  them  more 
refined  and  instructed  members,  are  calling  in  the  dan- 
gerous aid  of  literature.  Foster  and  Hall  are  unques- 
tionably men  of  genius. — But  whither  am  I  rambling  ?  I 
see  Europe  faintly  at  this  vast  distance,  and  I  presume  to 
sketch  a  miniature  of  its  mental  tendencies  to  so  near 
and  so  sagacious  an  observer. 

"  Both  Lady  M.  and  myself  sympathise  entirely  with 
Mrs.  Opie.*  She  (I  mean  Lady  M.)  has  at  least  taught 
me  to  feel  what  I  lose  in  separation  from  affection  and 
intellect,  and  she  is  generous  enough  to  consider  me  in 
the  same  light.  Assure  Mrs.  Opie  of  our  sympathy. 
Her  grief  will  be  deprived  of  its  bitterness  by  her  mild 
and  cheerful  nature ;  and  she  will  find  the  most  powerful 
resource  in  her  charming  talents ;  but  I  do  not  expect 
that  she  should  ever  cease  to  think  with  tenderness  of 
such  a  mind,  as  that  to  which  she  was  associated. 

"  If  I  had  been  a  little  more  acquainted  with  Mrs. 
Barbauld,  I  should  have  written  to  her.f  If  I  could 
have  spoken  any  consolation,  it  would  have  been  only 
payment  of  a  long  arrear  of  instruction  and  pleasure  for 
thirty  years.  In  another  sense,  it  would  have  been  but 
the  payment  of  a  debt.  I  could  have  said  little  but  what 
I  learned  from  herself.  If  ever  there  was  a  writer  whose 
wisdom  is  made  to  be  useful  in  the  time  of  need,  it 
is  Mrs.  Barbauld.  No  moralist  has  ever  more  exactly 
touched  the  point  of  the  greatest  practicable  purity, 
without  being  lost  in  exaggeration,  or  sinking  into 
meanness.  She  has  cultivated  a  philosophy  which  will 
raise  and  animate  her,  without  refining  it  to  that  degree, 


*  This  alludes  to  the  death  of  Mr.  Opie,  9th  of  April,  1807. 
f  Probably  on  the  unfortunate  aberration  of  intellect  under  which 
her  husband  was  then  suffering. 


442  LIFE   OF   THE  [1808. 

when  it  is  no  longer  applicable  to  the  gross  purposes  of 
human  life,  and  when  it  is  too  apt  to  evaporate  in  hypo- 
crisy and  ostentation.  Her  observations  on  the  moral 
of i  Clarissa '  are  as  fine  a  piece  of  mitigated  and  rational 
stoicism  as  our  language  can  boast  of:  and  she  who  has 
so  beautifully  taught  us  the  folly  of  inconsistent  expec- 
tations and  complaints,  can  never  want  practical  wisdom 
under  the  sharpest  calamities.  Mental  disease  is  perhaps 
the  subject  on  which  topics  of  consolation  are  the  most 
difficult  to  be  managed.  Yet  I  have  been  engaged  since 
my  arrival  here  in  a  very  singular,  and  not  altogether 
unsuccessful,  correspondence  with  poor  Hall,  formerly 
of  Cambridge,  on  the  subject  of  his  own  insanity.  With 
Mrs.  B.'s  firmer  and  calmer  philosophy,  I  should  think 
it  easy  to  teach  the  imagination  habitually  to  consider 
the  evil  only  as  a  bodily  disease,  of  which  the  mental 
disturbance  is  a  mere  symptom.  That  this  habit  de- 
prives insanity  of  its  mysterious  horrors,  is  obvious 
enough  from  the  instance  of  febrile  delirium,  which 
fills  us  with  no  more  horror  than  any  other  morbid 
appearance,  because  we  steadily  and  constantly  consider 
it  as  an  effect.  The  horrible  character  of  the  disease 
seems  much  to  depend  on  its  being  considered  as  arising 
from  some  secret  and  mysterious  change  in  the  mind, 
which,  by  a  sort  of  noble  superstition,  is  exalted  above 
vulgar  corporeal  organs.  Whoever  firmly  regards  it  as 
the  result  of  physical  causes,  will  spare  himself  much 
of  this  horror,  and  acquire  the  means  of  being  useful 
to  the  sufferer.  My  advice  may  be  useless,  but  I  should 
wish  my  sympathy  known  to  Mrs.  Barbauld.  It  is  the 
privilege  of  such  excellent  writers  to  command  the  sym- 
pathy of  the  distant  and  unborn.  It  is  a  delightful  part 
of  their  fame ;  and  no  writer  is  more  entitled  to  it  than 
Mrs.  Barbauld. 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  443 

"  I  told  you  in  my  last,  of  my  eldest  daughter's  agree- 
able marriage.  She  is  overflowing  with  happiness  in  her 
solitude  at  Bagdad,  and  scarcely  envies  Zobeide  in  the 
first  fervour  of  Haroun  al  Raschid's  passion. 

"I  congratulate  you,  not  formally,  but  heartily,  on 
your  eldest  daughter's  marriage ;  and  I  beg  you  will  offer 
my  congratulations  to  Dr.  R.  and  to  her. 

"I  can  still  trace  William  Taylor  by  his  Armenian 
dress,  gliding  through  the  crowd  in  Annual  Reviews, 
Monthly  Magazines,  Athenaeums,  &c.,  rousing  the  stupid 
public  by  paradox,  or  correcting  it  by  useful  and  season- 
able truth.  It  is  true  that  he  does  not  speak  the  Arme- 
nian, or  any  other  language  but  the  Taylorian;  but  I  am 
so  fond  of  his  vigour  and  originality,  that  for  his  sake,  I 
have  studied  and  learned  his  language.  As  the  Hebrew 
is  studied  for  one  book,  so  is  the  Taylorian  by  me  for 
one  author.  He  never  designs  to  write  to  me  but  in 
print.  I  doubt  whether  he  has  many  readers  who  so 
much  understand,  relish,  and  tolerate  him  ;  for  which  he 
ought  to  reward  me  by  some  manuscript  esoterics.  He 
will  feel  for  me,  when  you  tell  him,  that  since  December, 
1806,  I  have  no  'Allgememe  Literatur  Zeitung.'  My 
provisions  are  cut  off.  A  thousand  thanks  to  Sayers 
for  his  letters,  always  most  acceptable,  though  he  still 
remains  in  the  stye  of  Toryism. 

u  I  have  left  myself  not  a  moment  or  a  line  for  Euro- 
pean or  Indian  politics.  Of  the  last  I  shall  only  say,  that 
in  the  connexion  of  England  with  India,  the  good  appears 
to  me  much  more  easily  separable  from  the  evil,  than  is 
usual  in  human  affairs.  The  good  arises  from  the  supe- 
rior morality  of  the  European  race  in  its  lowest  degene- 
racy; the  evil  from  an  accursed  commercial  and  political 
monopoly. 

u  Write    to    me   often,  my   dear  friend.      Receive 


444  LIFE   OF   THE  [1808. 

Lady  M.'s  best  and  kindest  wishes  for  your  welfare, 
that  of  Mr.  Taylor,  and  your  whole  family ;  as  well  as 
those  of 

"  Yours,  most  faithfully, 

"JAMES  MACKINTOSH." 


TO    CHARLES    BUTLER,    ESQ.,   LINCOLN  S    INN. 

"Bombay,  January  16th,  1809. 

"My  DEAR  SIR, — I  was  very  much  gratified  by  the 
mark  of  your  remembrance,  which  was  brought  to  me  by 
Mr.  White.  I  know  your  active  curiosity,  and  I  feel  the 
greatest  wish  to  satisfy  such  a  disposition  in  general,  but 
certainly  much  more  when  it  is  the  curiosity  of  a  person 
whom  I  respect  so  much  as  you.  I  have  small  means 
of  information  on  subjects  peculiarly  oriental.  To  be 
an  orientalist  requires  a  profound  knowledge  of  several 
most  difficult  languages,  as  a  preliminary  attainment.  It 
requires  afterwards  the  labour  of  a  life  devoted  to  the 
study  of  the  history,  manners,  sciences,  and  arts,  not  of 
one  nation  only,  but  of  a  body  of  nations.  I  was  too 
much  advanced  in  life,  my  habits  were  too  much  formed, 
and  I  had  too  many  other  objects  of  pursuit,  and  projects 
at  least  of  study,  to  make  the  necessary  sacrifice.  A 
smattering  of  Indian  learning  was  not  worth  pursuit ;  — 
a  sufficient  stock  would  have  cost  too  much.  But  I  have 
laboured  to  excite  and  direct  a  general  spirit  of  inquiry 
among  those,  whose  only  contributions  to  the  increase  of 
knowledge  must  be  derived  from  Eastern  stores.  I  have 
endeavoured  to  spread  the  general  maxims  of  historical 
criticism,  which  seem  to  have  been  hitherto  as  much  for- 
gotten in  Indian  inquiries,  as  they  were  by  O'Flaherty 
and  Keating.  I  circulated  a  plan  for  a  comparative 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  445 

vocabulary  of  Indian  languages,  with  a  view  chiefly  to 
determine  whether  they  were  all  of  one  family,  or  whether 
the  Sanscrit,  which  is  to  be  found  in  all,  might  not  be  a 
foreign  addition,  at  least  to  some  of  them.  I  was  not 
very  well  seconded  in  this  plan ;  but  the  object  has  been, 
in  a  great  measure,  attained,  with  respect  at  least  to  the 
Southern  Indian  languages,  by  Mr.  Ellis,*  of  the  Madras 
establishment,  a  gentleman  of  extraordinary  talents,  and 
unrivalled  Indian  learning.  He  seems  to  have  clearly 
ascertained  that  the  Tamul  (the  language  vulgarly  spoken 
at  Madras,  and  called  by  us  Malabars,)  is  the  parent  of 
all  the  languages  to  the  south  of  the  Nerbudda,  and  the 
Mahanaddy  in  Cuttack ;  that  the  Sanscrit  words  which 
are  to  be  found  in  all  these  southern  languages,  are 
foreigners  naturalised ;  that  in  the  countries  where  these 
languages  are  spoken,  the  religion  of  Buddha  was 
the  original  religion;  and  that  Braminism,  with  the 
Sanscrit  language,  came  at  a  later  period  from  the  north. 
The  same  observations  have  been  made  by  Dr.  Leyden, 
now  of  Calcutta,  whose  talent  for  observing  the  resem- 
blance in  the  general  features  and  physiognomy  of  lan- 
guages, and  tracing  their  descent  by  their  family  likeness, 
is  perhaps  unparalleled.  In  the  temples  to  the  south,  it 
appears  that  there  are  genealogies  of  the  principal  dynas- 
ties preserved,  which  contain  a  sort  of  skeleton  of  the 
history  of  the  Peninsula,  supported  by  inscriptions, 
nearly  as  far  back  as  the  Christian  jEra.  In  the  north, 
either  we  have  not  been  so  diligent,  or  the  longer  and 
more  perfect  establishment  of  the  Mussulman  power  has 
more  perfectly  obliterated  all  traces  of  Hindu  history ; 
for  there  we  have  yet  nothing  between  the  times  that  are 
purely  fabulous,  and  the  Mahometan  conquest.  With 

*  The  late  Francis  Ellis,  Esq. 
VOL.  I.  38 


446  LIFE   OF   THE  [1808. 

respect  to  men  of  common  sense,  there  is  no  history 
of  Northern  India  before  the  Mahometans.  I  should 
not,  however,  despair  of  recovering  something,  if  Ellises 
and  Leydens  were  to  examine  the  languages  and  tradi- 
tions, especially  in  the  Rajpoot  countries.* 

"  You  ask  me  about  the  numerals.  I  can  only  say  that 
numerals,  evidently  the  same  with  the  Arabic,  are  used 
in  all  the  MSS.  now  extant  of  the  books  supposed  to  be 
most  ancient.  But  this  is  not  absolutely  decisive.  The 
nature  of  this  climate  scarcely  allows  the  existence  of  an 
ancient  MS.  One  of  the  most  ancient  f  was  of  a  book 
ascribed  to  Zoroaster,  written  in  Zend,  A.  D.  1517,  which 
I  sent  with  some  Sanscrit  and  Pehlavi  MSS.  to  the  library 
of  the  ( London  Institution,'  and  which  were  taken,  and 
carried  to  the  Isle  of  France.  The  numerals  might  have 
been  adopted  by  modern  copiers ;  but  this  is  only  a  possi- 
bility :  and  the  Arabs  themselves  profess  to  have  borrowed 
their  numerals  from  the  Hindus ;  at  least  I  find  it  so  stated 
in  Dr.  Wallis'  Algebra,  p.  9,  and  Mr.  Greaves,  ( de  Siglis 
Arabum,'  both  which  works  I  only  know  from  the  Philo- 
sophical Transactions,  in  which  is  a  letter  from  Mr. 
Gulstone  to  Mr.  Ward,  quoting  the  authority  of  Wallis 
and  Greaves  for  this  confession  of  the  Arabs.  The 
Hindus  certainly  are  acquainted  with  Algebra ;  but 
whether  they  have  received  it  from  the  Mahometans,  J 
we  must  learn  from  a  comparison  of  their  Algebra  with 
that  of  the  Arabian  mathematicians,  which  has  not,  I 
believe,  yet  been  made. 

*  He  lived  to  see  this  desideratum  supplied  by  the  industry  of  Colonel 
Tod. 

t  In  this  he  had  been  misinformed,  as  many  MSS.  of  much  older 
date  exist,  both  in  Asia  and  Europe. 

\  This  appears  to  have  been  decided  in  the  negative,  by  the  subse- 
quent researches  of  Mr.  Colebrooke. 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  447 

"  A  young  medical  man,  Dr.  Taylor,  moderately  well 
acquainted  with  Sanscrit,  is  now  employed,  under  my 
direction,  in  translating  one  of  the  common  treatises  on 
logic.  They  use  syllogism,  as  we  know,  among  other 
sources,  from  the  '  Lettres  JEdifiantes,'  which  you  men- 
tion. If  their  logic  should  be  exactly  the  same  with  the 
Peripatetic,  there  will  be  reason  to  believe  that  they  have 
taken  it  from  the  Mahometans,  who  have  the  whole 
Aristotelian  philosophy.  But  if  there  should  be  material 
differences,  which,  from  what  I  have  seen,  I  conjecture 
will  prove  to  be  the  case,  the  high  antiquity  of  Sanscrit 
science,  though  not  its  precise  periods,  may  be  as  safely 
inferred  from  their  possessing  a  peculiar  system  of  arti- 
ficial logic,  as  if  the  disputed  questions  respecting  their 
astronomy  were  finally  decided.  On  these  questions  I 
am  not  worthy  to  venture  an  opinion.  The  Edinburgh 
Reviewer,  who  attacks  Bentley,*  is,  I  believe,  Mr.  Alex- 
ander Hamilton,  now  Professor  at  Hertford  College  — 
a  Sanscrit  scholar  of  the  highest  eminence,  whose  cata- 
logue of  the  Sanscrit  MSS.  in  the  great  French  library, 
has,  I  observe,  been  published  at  Paris.  Mr.  Erskine,  of 
this  place,  a  man  of  science,  as  well  as  an  Indian 
scholar,  inclines  to  the  opinion  of  Bentley. 

"I  read  with  very  great  pleasure  last  year  the 
'  Revolutions  of  the  Empire  of  Charlemagne.'  It  is 
one  of  those  clear  and  instructive  abridgments  which 
are  so  uncommon  in  English  literature.  Perhaps  the 
best  way  of  showing  my  opinion  of  it  is  to  mention  one 
or  two  specks,  which  might  be  easily  removed  in  the 
succeeding  editions,  which  must  be  numerous.  Why 
Alphonszw  and  Rudolfz^,  instead  of  Alphonso  and 
Rudolf?  This  is  one  of  the  remains  of  that  disgraceful 
ignorance  of  continental  languages  among  our  writers 

*  John  Bentley,  Esq. — see  his  Essay,  Asiatic  Researches,  vol.  vi. 


448  LIFE    OF   THE  [1808. 

in  the  last  century,  who  know  foreigners  only  by  their 
Latinised  names.  In  a  book  of  Mr.  Dallaway's,  the 
other  day  I  was  puzzled  by  finding  some  mention  of  one 
Abbot  Suggerius ;  and  it  was  some  time  before  I  could 
recognise  my  old  friend,  the  Abbe  Suger.  'Unpro- 
pertied/  e  pretendant,'  '  coalised,'  &c.,  are  words  of  more 
than  doubtful  Anglicism.  In  the  account  of  the  French 
Revolution,  the  Royal  Session  and  the  oath  at  the  '  Jeu 
de  Paume]  are  placed  after  the  union  of  the  three  orders. 
They  happened  before  it,  and  you  will  find,  on  recon- 
sidering the  facts,  that  this  insertion  of  them  is  not 
trivial.  The  weight  allowed  to  Barruel  is  what  I  should 
most  wish  you  to  reconsider.  Do  your  authorities  sup- 
port the  assertion  ?  Condorcet  only  proves  that  there 
was  a  co-operation — not  that  there  was  a  conspiracy ; 
and  that  bold  writers  will  seek  to  shelter  themselves  from 
the  power  which  they  attack.  Mallet  du  Pan  only  proves 
a  conspiracy  of  revolutionists,  but  not  a  conspiracy  of 
writers,  fifty  years  before.  On  the  contrary,  he  has  a 
particular  essay  on  the  subject,  evidently  directed  against 
Barruel.  He  is  very  justly  indignant  at  the  attack  on 
Montesquieu,  and  with  equal  reason  laughs  at  the  idea 
of  Voltaire  being  a  republican.  The  i  Doutes*  of  the 
Abbe  Mably  seemed  to  me  a  just  attack  on  the  politics 
of  the  economists  (despotisms  legale],  and  a  weak 
attack  on  their  economical  system.  But  how  does  it 
prove  any  conspiracy?  I  have  not  yet  read  the  other 
book  of  Mably,  to  which  you  refer.  Have  you  not  seen 
the  book  on  the  Templars,  by  Grouvelle  ?  You  know 
that  Bossuet  and  Arnauld  believed  their  innocence — 
some  authority. 

u  I  know  not  how  soon  I  may  be  permitted  to  bend 
my  steps  westward.  Among  the  pleasures  of  my  native 
land,  I  consider  the  friendship  and  society  of  worthy  and 
rational  men  as  the  first.  You  may  therefore  judge  how 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH. 

gladly  I  shall  renew  my  intercourse  with  you ;  but,  in  the 
meantime,  I  hope  you  will  not  drop  the  correspondence 
thus  begun. 

"  My  family  enjoy  tolerable  health.  Lady  M.  desires 
me  to  offer  her  best  remembrances  to  you,  Mrs.  Butler 
and  family,  as  well  as  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hargrave,  when 
you  see  them.  I  beg  to  be  included  in  these  remem- 
brances, and  I  ever  am, 

"  My  dear  Sir, 

a  Kespectfully  and  faithfully  yours, 
"  J.  MACKINTOSH." 


38* 


450  LIFE   OF   THE  [1808. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

TOUR  IN  THE  DECKAN —  POONAH —  BEEJAPOOR  —  CALBERGA  —  GOLCONDA — 
HTDERABAD  —  COURT  OF  THE  NIZAM — DEATH  OF  MEER  ALLUM —  BEEDER  — 
WYBAAG — TENT  ROBBED  —  PAT  US  —  GENERAL  OBSERVATIONS. 

THE  reader  will  not,  perhaps,  be  sorry  to  quit,  for  a 
short  period,  the  desk  and  the  study,  to  accompany  our 
traveller  on  one  of  those  excursions  on  the  neighbouring 
continent,  which  commonly  occupied  the  cold  seasons. 
These  having  been  but  slightly  touched  upon,  it  may  not 
be  improper  to  devote  the  present  chapter  to  a  pretty 
copious  selection  from  a  diary  of  a  journey,  which  he 
made  towards  the  conclusion  of  the  year  1808  into  the 
Deckan.  His  design,  on  this  occasion,  was  to  visit  his 
friend,  Captain  Sydenham,  at  Hyderabad,  and,  in  going 
or  returning,  to  examine  the  remains  of  the  capitals  of  the 
old  kingdoms  of  the  Deckan.  He  accordingly  proceeded 
from  Poonah  to  Beejapoor,  the  capital  of  the  Adil-Shahi 
dynasty,  and  thence  went  on  to  Calberga,  the  old  capital 
of  the  Bahminiah  kings.  He  visited  Golconda,  the  seat 
of  the  Kutub-Shahi  princes,  and  on  his  return  passed 
through  Beeder,  the  second  capital  of  the  Bahminiahs. 
This  carried  him  considerably  out  of  the  beaten  track,  by 
a  route  then,  at  least,  little  frequented. 

In  this  journey,  his  attention  was  chiefly  turned  to  the 
structure  of  Indian  society,  the  quality  of  the  population, 
and  of  the  castes  into  which  it  was  divided ;  the  hereditary 
and  other  officers  of  districts  and  villages;  the  degree 


1808.]  BIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  451 

of  protection  afforded  by  the  Government,  and  the  tenure 
of  landed  property.  The  speculations  of  Colonel  Wilks 
had  directed  his  attention  to  these  important  topics,  and 
he  was  desirous  of  discovering  how  far  the  observations 
made  in  the  south  of  India  were  applicable  to  the  present 
state  of  the  Deckan.  This  led  him  into  minute  inquiries 
at  every  village  where  he  rested,  concerning  the  number 
of  persons  of  each  caste;  their  religion  or  sect;  the  number 
and  rights  of  village  officers ;  the  rent  of  land,  as  well  as 
the  supposed  right  in  the  soil.  "In  this  excursion  he 
thought,"  as  he  afterwards  expressed  himself, "  that  he 
had  gained  more  of  the  sort  of  Indian  knowledge  of  which 
he  was  in  pursuit,  than  he  could  have  done  in  five  years' 
reading ;  and  the  result  was  a  firm  conviction,  that  the 
first  blessing  to  be  wished  to  the  inhabitants  of  India  was, 
that  a  civilised  conqueror  might  rescue  them  from  their 
native  oppressors,  and  that  they  would  find  better  masters 
in  the  worst  Europeans,  than  in  the  best  of  their  own 
countrymen."  Most  of  these  minute  inquiries,  new  and 
valuable  as  they  were  at  the  time,  it  has  been  judged 
proper  to  retrench,  many  of  them  having  been  superseded 
by  later  and  more  correct  investigations,  though  the- 
general  conclusions  have  been,  as  far  as  possible,  pre- 
served. 

"  November  8th. — Left  Bombay  at  half-past  ten  in  the 
evening.  About  eleven  fell  asleep — once  or  twice  awak- 
ened, notwithstanding  my  flannels,  by  smartness  of  the 
cold.  A  little  before  five  I  was  informed  that  we  are  in 
the  harbour  of  Panwell.  In  about  an  hour,  Colonel  Close's 
palankeen  came  to  the  shore.  I  was  carried  into  the  vil- 
lage, and  after  a  few  compliments  from  Mulna  Hussein,* 

*  The  agent  of  Colonel  Close,  at  Panwell.  He  was  also  a  cousin  of 
Fyzullah  (Fazl-ed-din),  Sir  James's  servant. 


452  LIFE   OF   THE  [1808. 

proceeded  at  half-past  six  on  my  way  to  Chowk,  a 
stage  of  twelve  miles,  which  we  took  four  hours  to  get 
through. 

"  Panwell  is  a  wooded  village,  well  situated  on  a  small 
bay,  distinguished  by  the  handsome  dome  of  a  mosque. 
The  road  winds  along  a  valley  from  one  to  three  miles 
wide,  formed  by  two  lines  of  woody  and  rocky  hills  of 
castellated  shapes,  advancing  from  the  Ghauts  to  the  sea. 
The  valley  is  beautifully  varied  by  wood  and  corn-fields. 
As  I  did  not  sleep  sound  last  night,  and  had  passed  this 
way  twice  before,  neither  my  body  nor  my  mind  were 
very  much  awake  to  the  scenery. 

"9th. — Chowk  to  Compowlee,  twelve  miles. 

u  —  Left  Chowk  at  a  quarter  after  one.  The  road  is 
through  a  continuation  of  the  same  valley,  in  general 
almost  narrowed  into  a  glen,  but  sometimes,  after  a 
shorter  pass  than  usual,  widening  into  amphitheatres, 
which  are  striking.  In  the  last  and  smallest  of  these  are 
the  Pagoda  and  Tank  of  Compowlee,  most  beautifully 
situated.  The  pagoda  was  founded  by  Nana  Furnavese, 
the  famous  Mahratta  minister.  He  was  a  Bramin,  and 
therefore  a  secret  unbeliever,  yet  he  richly  endowed 
Pagodas. 

"I  have  felt  more  cold  last  night,  and  more  heat 
to-day,  than  I  had  before  done  in  India;  not  that  the  day 
was  nearly  the  hottest,  nor  the  night  the  coldest,  but  that 
I  was  more  exposed  to  cold  and  heat. 

"Arrived  at  Compowlee  at  half-past  five,  and  con- 
versed for  some  time  with  Captain  Christie*  (stationed 
there),  who  nine  months  ago  made  me  a  present  of  his 
brother's  book  of  mythological  prints. 

u  Captain  Christie  tells  me  that  the  Carwaree  Bramins, 

*  Known  afterwards  as  a  traveller  in  Beloochistan  and  Seistan,  and 
for  his  eminent  services  in  organising  the  Persian  army.  He  was  killed 
in  a  night  attack  of  the  Russians  on  the  Persian  camp,  near  Tabreez. 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  453 

who  are  charged  with  offering  human  sacrifices  (the 
'Nurmed'),  have  lately,  at  Poonah,  offered  a  Bramin 
to  the  dread  Goddess  Calee,  whom  they  worship.  The 
victim  was  inveigled  into  one  of  their  houses,  and 
poisoned.  This  is  a  strange  mode  of  killing  for  sacri- 
fice, but  they  dare  not  try  any  other.  The  fact,  though 
not  judicially  proved,  is  said  to  be  universally  believed 
at  Poonah.  I  must  inquire  into  the  matter  more  fully 
when  I  reach  that  place. 

"  10th. — Compowlee  to  Carlee,  sixteen  miles. 

"Left  Compowlee  at  five — almost  immediately  began 
to  climb  the  Ghauts,  which  soon  became  so  steep  as  to 
make  me  quit  my  palankeen.  Compared  to  the  Ghauts  in 
Malabar,  they  are  nothing,  either  for  height  or  steepness. 
Before  we  had  got  through  the  Ghaut,  it  was  near  eight. 
Quite  at  the  top  is  a  small  village,  called  Candaulah, 
having  in  miniature  the  situation  of  Compowlee.  The 
Pass  itself  scarcely  appears  grand,  after  the  forests  and 
mountains  of  Malabar.  It  has,  however,  all  the  effect 
of  deep  wooded  chasms  beneath,  and  lofty  wooded  rocks 
above.*  The  timber  is  much  inferior  to  that  in  the 
south.  After  we  are  quite  clear  of  the  Ghaut,  the  trees 
dwindle  still  more,  and  are  more  thinly  scattered.  The 
breath  of  the  Ghaut  is  strong  and  cold;  I  no  longer 
feel  heat  as  in  the  valley  yesterday. — Did  not  arrive  at 
Carlee  till  half-past  ten,  after  having  experienced  some  of 
the  accidents  of  an  eastern  journey.  Four  of  my  palan- 
keen bearers  are  left  on  the  road  from  real  or  pretended 
hurts  in  the  feet. 

"Found  Colonel  Close's  tent  pitched  in  a  topef  of 
mango  trees,  at  the  very  spot  where  I  passed  a  day  with 
poor  Frissel  near  three  years  ago. 


*  The  scene  reminded  Bishop  Heber  of  the  Vale  of  Corwen,  N.W. 
t  Grove. 


454  LIFE   OF   THE  [1808. 

"  Short  as  these  journeys  are,  they  are  so  slow,  that 
they  do  not  seem  likely  to  leave  much  leisure.  I  shall 
seldom  be  less  than  six  hours  on  the  road. 

"  —  Read  sixty-eight  pages  of  '  Bardili's  History  of 
the  Progress  of  Opinions  concerning  God  and  the  Human 
Soul/  which  in  general  explains  the  progress  of  these 
speculations  justly,  as  well  as  ingeniously.  It  was  pub- 
lished in  1787,  and  I  was  pleased  to  find  ideas  in  it  not 
unlike  some  of  mine  in  an  essay,  which  I  read  to  the 
'  Speculative  Society'  a  little  before  that  time,  viz.,  that 
air  first  gave  the  notion  of  invisible  beings — that  breath 
was  the  original  soul,  &c.  But  they  are  obvious,  and 
must  have  occurred  to  many  before  us. 

" — Did  not  find  myself  in  spirits  for  a  second  visit  to 
the  Cave,*  which  I  reserve  for  our  meeting  on  my  return. 
This  is  a  miserable  village  of  fifteen  or  twenty  huts,  and 
about  fifty  inhabitants,  as  I  am  informed  by  a  poor  Bra- 
min,  who  is  a  sort  of  purveyor  for  travellers.  The  rent 
paid  for  it  to  a  man  of  rank  at  Poonah,  is  1000  rupees 
per  annum.  He  threatens  to  raise  it  to  1200,  and  the 
inhabitants  threaten  to  emigrate.  They  feel  that  they 
are  governed — only  when  they  pay  taxes;  in  every  other 
respect  they  are  completely  left  to  themselves;  —  no 
police,  no  administration  of  justice,  &c.,  except  such  as 
the  village  system  of  India,  explained  by  Colonel  Wilks, 
supplies.  It  would  be  difficult  to  say  for  what  the  tax 
is  paid,  unless  it  be  to  bribe  the  sovereign  not  to  murder 
and  rob  the  inhabitants. 

"  llth. — Carlee  to  Tulligom,  fifteen  miles. 
" — Left  Carlee  at  twenty  minutes  before  five,  and 
arrived  at  Tulligom  at  twenty  minutes  before  ten.    The 
wood  has  entirely  ceased ;  the  country  is  bare  and  little 
cultivated ;  there  are  no  villages  ;  the  road  is  lonely,  and 
the  whole  district  seems  unpeopled.    The  want  of  inhabit- 
*  Extensive  Buddhist  excavations. 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  455 

ants  is  not  disagreeably  felt  among  romantic  scenery. 
Rocks  and  woods  are  companions,  but  a  flat  country 
without  men  is  like  Chaos,  "  without  form  and  void." 

"  — Read  the  first  hundred  pages  of  the  Abridgment 
of  Search,  by  Hazlitt.  The  introduction  is  able,  but  it 
has  too  much  of  a  pamphleteering  and  factious  air ;  it  has 
nothing  of  the  tranquillity  of  science.  The  author  abuses 
the  Lockian  philosophy,  which  was  that  of  his  author, 
and  the  Hartleian,  from  which  I  am  sorry  to  say  that 
Search  has  borrowed  without  acknowledgment.  He  is 
guilty  of  the  folly  of  depreciating  the  excellences  which 
his  author  had  not.  There  is  no  need  of  undervaluing 
systematic  and  precise  writers,  because  Search  was  neither. 
He  had  other  excellences  of  the  highest  order.  It  is  not 
observed,  that  he  was  a  metaphysician  only  in  order  to  be 
a  moralist.  Abstract  reasoning  was  with  him  secondary. 
His  main  object  was  practice,  and  his  great  praise  is  that 
of  a  master  in  the  philosophy  of  life.  The  abridgment 
seems  very  well  made;  at  least  it  pleases  me  much; 
though  I  know  not  how  much  of  that  pleasure  I  ought 
to  set  down  to  the  merely  being  reminded  of  what  I 
so  much  like.*  Perhaps  it  would  not  give  a  sufficient 
idea  of  Search  to  a  beginner.  It  is  not  a  fault  of  the 

*  Tucker  was  with  him  always  a  favourite  author.  In  the  "  Dis- 
course on  the  Law  of  Nature  and  Nations,"  (p.  37,  note)  he  speaks  of 
the  "  Light  of  Nature  "as  "a  work  which,  after  much  consideration, 
I  think  myself  authorised  to  call  the  most  original  and  profound  that 
has  ever  appeared  on  moral  philosophy."  Sir  H.  P.  St.  John  Mildmay, 
in  his  Life  of  his  Grandfather,  Mr.  Tucker,  prefixed  to  an  edition  of 
his  work,  says,  "  I  was  in  hopes  to  have  offered  some  observations  on 
this  head  (An  Analysis  of  the  general  Scheme  of  the  Light  of  Nature 
pursued)  to  the  public,  from  the  pen  of  Sir  J.  Mackintosh ;  had  not 
the  pressure  of  professional  engagements  interfered,  and  the  high  situa- 
tion to  which  he  has  been  called  in  a  distant  country,  finally  defeated 
the  plan  he  had  in  contemplation." 


456  LIFE    OF   THE  [1808. 

Abridgment,  that  much  of  the  dramatic  merit  of  the  ori- 
ginal is  lost  in  it.  That  merit  never  could  have  been 
preserved  in  any  abridgment,  because  it  depends  on  the 
rambling  and  gossipping  manner,  which  is  not  desirable 
for  the  mere  student. 

"  — Finished  breakfast  and  dressing  by  eleven,  an  hour 
earlier  than  the  two  preceding  days. — See,  after  break- 
fast, a  young  subaltern  going  from  Seroor  to  Bombay  for 
health — an  unfortunate  boy  who  has  been  suffering  under 
a  dysentery  for  three  months ;  one  of  the  innumerable 
victims  sacrificed  to  tropical  dominion.  His  name  is 
Canning.  We  are  now  encamped  on  a  plain  to  the  west 
of  the  town,  which  is  considerable ;  instead  of  being  as 
formerly,*  at  a  tank  immediately  to  the  east  of  it. — 
Resolve  to  push  on  to  Panowlee,  in  order  to  have  a  very 
short  stage  to  Poonah  in  the  morning. — Left  Tulligom  at 
half-past  one,  and  arrived  at  Panowlee  at  four,  through 
the  same  sort  of  country.  This  village  stands  upon 
a  river,  which  is  one  of  those  that  join  at  the  Sungum. 
It  was  entirely  laid  waste  by  Holkar  in  1803,  and  the 
inhabitants  sought  refuge  at  Chincore,  where  the  Deo >,-{• 
(or  incarnate  Deity,)  whom  I  visited  in  1805,  not  only 
protected  from  plunder  the  extensive  estates  of  his  own 
pagoda,  but  afforded  a  secure  shelter  to  the  fugitives 
from  the  neighbourhood.  The  Bhara  (or  castle  of  a 
Mahratta  chief)  was  burnt  j  the  ruins  are  extensive. 
They  have  both  square  and  round  towers,  and  are  not 
unlike  a  feudal  castle  of  the  rudest  form  in  England.  In 
the  middle  of  the  river  is  a  small  pagoda,  to  which,  when 
the  season  is  more  advanced,  there  must  be  a  dry  path 

*  In  his  journey  to  Poonah  in  1805. 

t  For  an  account  of  the  origin  of  the  object  of  this  strange  supersti- 
tion, see  an  interesting  paper  read  by  Captain  W.  H.  Sykes. — Bombay 
Transactions,  vol.  iii.  p.  64. 


1808.]  RIGHT  HON.   SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  457 

over  the  rocks.  Above  the  pagoda  is  a  wall  built  across 
the  channel,  to  break  the  force  of  the  stream,  like  our 
weirs  for  catching  salmon. 

u  —  Delighted  with  the  e  Vision'  in  the  Abridgment 
(Search).  I  still  think  the  dialogue  with  Stahl  might 
have  been  omitted.  But  the  interview  with  his  wife  is 
most  beautifully  imagined,  and  most  naturally  told.  He 
was  a  good  man. 

" — Go  to  bed  always  at  the  usual  hour  of  seven  o'clock. 

"12th. — Panowlee  to  Poonah,  twelve  miles. 

"  — Set  off  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning :  about  half- 
past  seven  met  Colonel  Close  and  a  large  party  of  gen- 
tlemen, with  elephants,  camels,  hurkarus,  horses,  buggies, 
on  the  banks  of  the  same  river,  where  he  received  me 
three  years  ago. — Ride  with  him  to  his  residence  at  the 
Sungum,  on  an  elephant. 

"  —  General  Champagny,  Colonel  Wallace,  command- 
ant of  the  subsidiary  forces,  and  a  large  party  at  break- 
fast. Captain  Hamilton*  most  obligingly  offers  his  ser- 
vices to  arrange  all  preparations  for  my  journey ;  and 
Dr.  Taylor  called  immediately  after  breakfast ;  he  con- 
firmed the  story  of  the  human  sacrifice  by  the  Carwaree 
Bramins,  and  told  me  some  further  particulars  of  the 
'  nastica' (negative)  or  atheistical  Bramin,  now  at  Poonah. 
I  am  sorry  that  he  is  now  too  unwell  to  come  here  at 
present.  From  Taylor's  representation,  he  appears  to 

*  Captain  (afterwards  Major  William)  Hamilton,  of  the  Bengal  army, 
then  employed  under  the  resident  at  Poonah ;  an  excellent  Persian 
scholar,  and  an  intelligent  officer.  He  was  compelled  by  ill  health  to  try 
the  effects  of  the  climate,  first  of  Persia,  and  afterwards  of  England ;  he 
died  in  Orissa  soon  after  his  return  to  India.  It  will  be  seen  that  he 
eventually  accompanied  Sir  James  during  a  great  part  of  his  tour.  He 
was  the  brother  of  Captain  Alexander  Hamilton,  the  Sanscrit  professor 
at  Hertford  College,  and  of  Walter  Hamilton,  Esq.,  the  author  of  the 
"  Description  of  Hindostan." 

VOL.  I.  39 


458  LIFE   OF   THE  [1808. 

use  arguments  like  a  man  of  speculation — not  the  mere 
loose  talk  of  an  immoral  man,  which  I  had  rather  expected. 
— In  the  evening  had  some  conversation  with  Taylor's 
pundit,  about  the  Vedante  system. 

"13th. — This  morning  all  the  officers  of  the  newly 
arrived  Bombay  battalion  came  to  breakfast  en  masse  at 
the  Sungum. 

"  I  am  as  much  struck  as  I  was  at  first  by  the  cha- 
racter of  Colonel  Close.  He  is  without  accomplishment 
or  show,  plain,  cautious,  and  with  a  degree  of  mildness, 
that  forms  a  singular  contrast  with  the  firmness,  and  even 
sternness,  which  he  has  shown  on  trying  occasions.  He 
has  a  calm  understanding,  wholly  employed  in  practice, 
united  to  a  strength  of  nerve,  which  qualifies  him  equally 
for  a  cautious  or  a  vigorous  policy.  He  is  a  very  supe- 
rior man,  who  might  easily  pass  among  common  observ- 
ers for  a  very  common  man. 

"  To-morrow  morning,  very  early,  I  am  to  commence 
my  march  to  Beejapoor.  I  quit  the  society  of  Europeans, 
and  even  the  roads  frequented  by  them.  I  shall,  for  a 
fortnight,  neither  hear  a  word  of  English,  nor  see  a 
white  face.  My  solitude  is  not  quite  voluntary ;  when 
it  comes  to  the  push,  I  feel  that  I  should  prefer  a  toler- 
able companion. 

"14th. — Contrary  to  my  expectation,  I  resume  my 
journal  at  this  place.  The  Hamauls  and  Mussauls*  have 
deserted  in  a  body  last  night.  I  have  lost  my  advance  to 
them  of  near  200  rupees ;  and,  if  it  had  been  anywhere 
else,  I  might  have  been  obliged  to  make  a  long  stop. 
Here  I  shall  be  able  to  procure  Hamauls  in  the  course  of 
the  day.  The  motive  of  the  desertion  was  the  heaviness 
of  Colonel  Close's  Bengal  palankeen,  of  which  they  have 
more  than  once  complained ;  but  every  body  agrees  that 

*  Palankeen  bearers  and  link-boys. 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  459 

their  complaints  were  unreasonable — especially  from  so 
numerous  a  body  as  sixteen  bearers. 

"  Mr.  Elphinstone,  who  is  sent  on  a  mission  to  the 
court  of  Cabul,  has  been  obliged  to  relinquish  the  ordi- 
nary route  by  Lahore,  and  to  go  by  a  road,  which  leads 
through  a  good  deal  of  desert,  to  Moultan.  Runjeet- 
Sing,  the  Seik  chief  of  Lahore,  was  jealous  of  the  mission. 
He  did  not  much  like  the  prospect  of  a  close  union 
between  the  English  government,  his  most  formidable 
eastern  neighbours,  and  the  king  of  Cabul,  his  equally 
formidable  neighbour  on  the  western  side. 

"  Holkar  has  become  so  besotted  a  drunkard,  as  almost 
to  have  lost  his  senses.  After  an  excessive  dose  of  cherry 
brandy,  he  plucks  the  turbans  from  the  heads  of  his 
chiefs,  and  beats  them  like  the  lowest  slaves.  This 
degradation  of  the  only  chief  popular  among  the  Hindus, 
would  be  a  matter  of  some  consequence,  if  we  were  to 
have  an  European  invasion. 

"  I  am  informed  by  Colonel  Close,  that  the  popula- 
tion of  the  city  of  Poonah  is  about  a  hundred  thousand. 
The  police  is  intrusted  to  a  military  Bramin  of  the 
family  of  Gokla,  in  whose  domain  Beejapoor  is  situated. 
He  has  a  considerable  establishment  of  police  ' peons;' 
and  his  duty  is  either  so  easy,  or  so  skilfully  performed, 
that,  notwithstanding  the  frequent  assemblages  of  men, 
mostly  armed,  brought  together  by  the  religious  festivals, 
there  are  very  few  instances  of  disorder.  He  punishes  all 
small  offences.  Great  crimes  are  punished  (very  rarely 
with  death)  by  the  officers  intrusted  with  the  districts, 
and,  in  very  serious  cases,  by  the  government.  Civil 
disputes  are  settled  by  arbitration,  under  the  sanction  of 
the  ministers.  There  is  not  a  court  of  judicature,  nor  a 
judge,  in  the  whole  Mahratta  dominions.  There  are  no 
regular  forms  of  trial. 

"  I  am  to  be  attended  on  my  journey  by  a  (  karkoon,' 


460  LIFE   OF   THE  [1808. 

or  Bramin  in  office,  who  is  sent  by  Gokla  to  act  as  a 
1  hurkaru,'  or  courier  and  guide. 

"The  Peshwa*  is  just  returned  from  a  religious 
journey  to  Punderpoor,  a  Bramin  town  of  considerable 
note,  which  we  shall  reach  in  five  or  six  days ;  and  this 
day  he  is  gone  to  a  village,  at  a  small  distance  to  the 
north-east,  on  a  similar  errand.  He  is  a  disgusting  mix- 
ture of  superstition  and  dissolute  manners.  It  does  not 
appear  that  this  sort  of  profligacy  is  conceived  at  all  to 
affect  his  moral  character.  Indeed,  the  Hindus  appear 
to  have  expunged  purity  of  manners  from  their  catalogue 
of  virtues. 

"  The  Poonah  bearers  whom  I  have  procured,  will  not 
go  till  to-morrow  morning ;  and,  indeed,  the  aching  of 
my  head  might  render  a  still  longer  delay  advisable  ;  but 
a  letter  from  Captain  Sydenham,  received  last  night, 
shows  him  to  have  made  such  preparations,  that  I  must 
make  an  exertion  to  proceed. 

"  Nothing  seems  more  strange,  than  that  so  great  a 
country  should  exist  without  a  judge.  Two  circum- 
stances diminish  the  wonder.  The  first  is  the  power  of 
the  officers  of  villages,  or  rather  townships,  so  well 
described  by  Colonel  Wilks  in  his  History  of  Mysore,-)- 
who,  throughout  India,  preserve  a  sort  of  republican 
constitution  under  despotic  princes,  and  retain  their 
authority  in  the  midst  of  the  revolutions  among  their 
superiors.  The  second  is  the  great  power  of  Bramins 
and  heads  of  castes,  who  are  a  kind  of  natural  arbitrators 
in  all  disputes,  and  who  can  punish  offences  by  expulsion 
from  caste, — a  penalty  more  terrible  than  any  which  we 
can  inflict.  These  two  authorities,  with  the  irregular 


*  Bajee  Rao. 

t  Not  published  till  two  years  afterwards,  but  which  he  had  perused 
in  MS. — See  the  fifth  chapter. 


1808.]  EIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  461 

jurisdiction  of  the  executive  officers,  are  sufficient  to 
maintain  tranquillity  ;  but  the  absence  of  all  regular  forms 
of  criminal  justice,  has  the  usual  effect  in  corrupting  the 
nations  so  unfortunate  as  to  be  destitute  of  that  great 
school  of  morali ty." 

From  Poonah,  Sir  James  proceeded  on  his  journey 
towards  the  points  of  interest,  which  he  had  determined 
to  embrace  in  this  excursion.  Passing  over,  as  too  bulky 
for  the  space  which  we  are  here  enabled  to  devote  to  them, 
the  details  of  his  progress,  and  his  observations  on  the 
manners  and  scenes  which  surrounded  him,  as  they  are 
recorded  in  his  diary,  we  resume  the  thread  of  the  narra- 
tive as  he  approached  the  stately  ruins  of  Beejapoor. 

"  25th. — Jelliall  to  Beejapoor,  twenty  miles. 

a  Set  out  at  twenty  minutes  after  five,  and  passed  the 
ruined  and  absolutely  solitary  towns  of  Seddewara, 
Booplaad,  and  Arkera,  every  one  of  which  had  been 
considerable.  For  fourteen  miles,  the  only  living  crea- 
tures we  saw  were  some  pretty  parroquets,  a  partridge,  a 
hare,  and  a  herd  of  deer ;  yet  our  road  was  through  a 
country  which  had  been  universally  cultivated,  and  within 
a  few  miles  of  what  had  been  one  of  the  most  superb 
cities  of  the  East.  About  ten  o'clock  we  were  astonished 
by  the  sight  of  two  men  on  horseback.  At  the  distance 
of  about  eleven  miles,  we  first  saw  one  of  the  domes  of 
Beejapoor  rising  with  great  majesty,  not  very  unlike  the 
dome  ' des  Invalides'  at  Paris.  Many  others  rose  upon 
our  view  as  we  advanced.  At  eleven  we  began  to  travel 
over  ruins,  with  mosques,  cubes  (tombs  of  saints),  &c.,  on 
all  sides.  A  little  after,  we  found  the  subahdar  come  to 
receive  us.  In  company  with  him  we  proceeded  to  the 
fort,  where  we  arrived  about  twelve. 

K  In  entering  the  gate  the  eye  is  struck  with  the  mas- 
siveness  of  the  stones  which  compose  the  wall.  I  never 
saw  so  many  stones,  of  such  a  size,  so  solidly  held 

39* 


462  LIFE    OF    THE  [1808. 

together,  in  a  building  of  such  height.  We  encamped 
under  a  tower  called  the  Copri  Boorj,  or  lofty  tower,  to 
the  top  of  which  we  climbed  by  a  stair,  now  broken, 
leading  up  the  outside.  On  the  top  were  two  of  the 
monstrous  pieces  of  ordnance  described  by  Major  Moor. 
One  of  them  I  measured  with  my  umbrella,  and  guessed 
to  be  about  thirty  feet  in  length,  which,  on  looking  at 
Moor,  I  found  to  be  right.  From  this  tower  is  a  very 
extensive  prospect  over  a  naked  and  uncultivated  plain  of 
vast  extent,  over  which  are  scattered  many  noble  edifices 
— the  remains  of  a  city  which,  in  the  beginning  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  was  probably  the  fourth  of  the 
Mahometan  world;  only  Constantinople,  Ispahan,  and 
Delhi  could  have  surpassed  it.  There  are  no  traces  of 
private  dwellings,  and  the  present  scanty  population  is 
hutted  in  the  ruins.  We  afterwards  went  to  a  bastion, 
where  was  the  i  Mulluke  Meidan,'  or  king  of  the  plain,  a 
piece  of  brass  ordnance,  supposed  to  be  the  largest,  and 
certainly  the  most  useless,  in  the  world.  It  was  originally 
cast  for  Nizam  Shah,  of  Ahmednuggar,  by  a  man  whose 
name  has  the  addition  of l  Roumi,'  which  does  not,  how- 
ever, mean  an  Italian,  as  Moor  supposes,  but  a  native  of 
the  Turkish  dominions,  called  '  Roum'  in  the  East.  It 
was  brought  here  in  triumph  by  one  of  the  Adil  Shahi- 
kings ;  and  when  Aurungzebe  took  this  city  in  1689,  he 
effaced  the  old  inscription  on  this  extraordinary  gun, 
and  substituted  one  which  still  remains  in  commemoration 
of  his  conquest. 

u  We  have  been  a  little  alarmed  by  accounts  of  rebellion 
at  the  first  town  on  the  road  to  Hyderabad ;  but  our  minds 
have  since  been  tranquillised,  and  we  now  understand  that 
the  rebel  will  receive  us  very  civilly,  and  that  he  is  a 
( village  Hampden,'  who  held  out  against  the  exorbitant 
demands  of  the  jagheerdar. 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  463 

"  To-morrow  will  be  employed  in  exploring  Beejapoor, 
and  on  Sunday  we  proceed. 

"26th. — Beejapoor.  At  half-past  six  we  set  out  to 
explore  this  Palmyra  of  the  Deckan.  A  Catalogue  of 
buildings,  &c.,  may  answer  the  purpose  of  reminding 
those  who  have  seen  them,  or  of  guiding  those  who  are 
to  see  them ;  but  to  all  others  it  is  equally  unamusive 
and  uninstructive.  As  I  am  one  of  the  few  writers  who 
have  any  influence  on  the  conduct  of  their  readers,  I  may 
venture  to  say,  that  none  of  my  readers  can  ever  see 
Beejapoor. 

"  We  walked  towards  the  north-east,  through  rows  of 
small  mosques,  of  which,  according  to  our  guide,  there 
remain  about  1400.  This  is  the  more  likely  to  be  true, 
as  nine-tenths  of  them  are  not  larger  than  summer-houses. 
We  passed  on  our  right  the  fortification  which  contains 
the  palace,  and  on  our  left  an  unfinished  building  of 
immense  extent,  begun  by  Ali  Adil  Shah. 

"  In  several  of  the  mosques  and  tombs,  the  minute  work 
in  stone  is  exquisite,  and  surpassed  by  no  cathedral  which 
I  have  ever  seen.  The  arches  have  every  gradation  from 
the  roundest  Saxon  to  the  most  pointed  Gothic ;  but  as 
these  buildings  were  not  erected  till  the  sixteenth  and 
seventeenth  centuries,  after  architecture  had  passed 
through  all  its  stages  in  Europe,  they  do  not  properly 
constitute  any  monuments  of  the  history  of  that  art. 
After  walking  about  two  miles,  we  found,  on  our  right, 
the  Great  Mosque,  to  build  which,  like  St.  Paul's,  had 
taken  the  reigns  of  five  kings.  Like  St.  Paul's,  too,  it 
witnessed  political  revolutions  during  the  period  in  which 
it  was  building,  and  was  completed  under  a  foreign  sove- 
reign. Aurungzebe  added  some  small  buildings,  that  he 
might  have  some  pretence  to  rank  as  a  fifth  among  the 
royal  founders.  On  entering,  we  saw  three  sides  of  a 
square  opening  on  the  fourth  side  to  a  garden  and  large 


464  LIFE   OF   THE  [1808. 

tank.  On  the  side  opposite  to  the  tank  is  the  mosque, 
and  it  certainly  has  a  very  grand  effect.  It  consists  of 
five  rows  of  noble  cloisters,  each  twenty-two  feet  wide, 
very  lofty,  and  supported  by  massy  pillars.  They  are 
divided  into  small  squares  of  that  size,  each  square  covered 
by  a  small  dome,  and  the  central  part  of  the  third  and 
fourth  rows  from  the  outside  forms  one  square  of  seventy 
feet  ac:u$ss,  covered  with  a  correspondent  cupola.  In  the 
centre  of  the  fifth  is  a  shrine,  which,  when  uncovered, 
appeared  full  of  passages  from  the  Koran,  in  letters  once 
gilt.  The  verandahs  of  the  wings,  extending  on  the 
right  and  left  of  the  garden,  were  high  and  spacious. 
The  whole  is  in  excellent  repair,  and  I  think  very  few 
buildings  composed  only  of  stone  can  have  a  more  digni- 
fied appearance. 

u  At  some  distance  is  the  Burra  Gumbuz,  or  great  dome 
of  Sultan  Mahomet  Adil  Shah,  which  certainly  deserves 
the  name.  This  was  the  building  which  we  saw  from  the 
eminence  on  this  side  of  Booplaad.  It  is  certainly  a  most 
noble  mausoleum,  though,  as  it  has  no  more  building 
than  is  necessary  to  support  the  cupola,  it  is  not  to  be 
compared  with  St.  Peter's  or  St.  Paul's,  where  the  domes 
are  only  grand  parts  of  immense  structures.  In  the 
centre  was  a  large  elevated  platform,  with  three  monu- 
ments. The  breadth  is  about  forty-eight  paces;  the 
guide  called  it  eighty  cubits.  At  each  corner  is  a  mina- 
ret, which  goes  to  the  top.  By  a  staircase  in  one  of  these 
we  climbed  up,  rather  laboriously,  to  the  top,  which  we 
found,  on  the  inside  of  the  dome,  one  hundred  and  thirty- 
two  paces  round.  Here  is  a  whispering  gallery,  where  the 
lowest  distinct  articulation  produces  a  very  clear  and  loud 
echo ;  no  sound  is  lost ;  I  made  it  resound  (I  know  not 
if  for  the  first  time)  with  the  first  verses  of '  Alexander's 
Feast,'  and  the  '  Bard ; '  with  some  stanzas  of  '  Chevy 
Chase/  two  strophes  of  the  '  Progress  of  Poesy,'  the 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  465 

Exordium  of  '  Paradise  Lost/  and,  lastly,  as  applicable 
to  the  scene,  with 

'  The  cloud-capt  towers,  the  gorgeous  palaces,'  &c. 

Every  word  of  the  poetry  was  most  harmoniously  rever- 
berated. "We  returned  now  to  breakfast,  a  little  after  ten 
o'clock,  almost  exhausted. 

"  Soon  after  we  received  a  visit  from  the  subahdar, 
attended  by  the  subahdar  of  Darwar.  After  some  un- 
meaning compliments,  they  requested  that  we  might 
retire  to  the  private  tent,  and  there  entreated  my  inter- 
position with  the  Peshwa  in  behalf  of  Wissagee  Punt,  the 
hereditary  quarter-master-general,  or  Beni  Wallee  of  the 
empire,  who  is  now  not  a  favourite  at  court.  I  answered 
them  cautiously,  that  I  should  represent  his  case  through 
Colonel  Close,  and  that  the  Peshwa  would,  no  doubt, 
treat  so  distinguished  a  family  with  indulgence,  as  well  as 
equity ;  but  that  it  was  impossible  for  me  to  be  answer- 
able for  the  decision  of  a  great  prince,  on  whose  mind  his 
allies,  the  English,  would  be  most  unwilling  to  exercise 
the  least  influence  inconsistent  with  independence  and  dig- 
nity. They  appeared  to  be  satisfied,  and  requested  a 
visit,  which  we  are  to  make  in  the  afternoon,  in  our  way 
to  the  palace. 

"Some  patients  afterwards  attended  my  medical  levee. 
One  of  them  was  in  a  most  extraordinary  state  of  mental 
imbecility,  attended  by  a  perfect  numbness,  of  which  it 
was  impossible  to  say  whether  it  arose  from  stupidity  or 
organic  disease.  He  had  little  appetite,  but  his  pulse 
was  tolerable ;  he  seemed  to  sleep  well,  and  he  could 
walk.  I  wish  that  so  singular  a  case  were  in  the  hands 
of  a  physician. 

"  About  three,  we  went  by  one  of  the  southern  gates 
to  the  mosque  and  tomb  of  Sultan  Ibrahim  Adil  Shah, 


466  LIFE   OF   THE  [1808. 

the  most  powerful  of  the  kings  of  Beejapoor,  who,  at  the 
head  of  a  Mussulman  confederacy,  destroyed  the  great 
Hindu  monarchy  of  Beejanuggar.  The  buildings  are 
about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  without  the  gate,  and  their 
distant  effect  is  greater  than  that  of  any  of  the  other 
buildings,  except  the  impression  made  by  the  loftiness  of 
the  Burra  Gumbuz.  Time  and  desolation  have  rendered 
their  situation  far  more  beautiful,  than  it  could  have  been 
in  the  days  of  their  splendour.  They  are  now  in  a  lonely 
grove  of  noble  trees,  instead  of  being  surrounded,  as  they 
probably  were,  by  paltry  huts  and  mean  streets.  The 
mosque  is  smaller  and  more  ancient  than  the  great 
mosque  of  the  citadel,  but  constructed  of  three  rows  of 
cloisters,  with  small  domes,  like  the  great  mosque.  The 
massiness  of  the  walls,  and  the  elegance  of  the  minute 
workmanship  in  stone,  are  most  admirable.  It  would 
have  seemed  almost  impossible  that  such  a  material  could 
have  been  wrought  into  such  slender  and  elegant  forms. 
In  the  tomb,  a  dark  hall,  are  six  or  seven  monuments  of 
this  victorious  Sultan,  his  mother,  and  some  of  his  chil- 
dren. The  absence  of  a  monument  to  a  wife  might  have 
been  considered  as  an  unamiable  feature  in  an  European 
prince ;  in  Asia,  the  affection  for  parents  and  children  is, 
unfortunately,  of  a  more  respectable  kind,  and  affords  a 
much  more  unequivocal  proof  of  virtue. 

"  From  this  place,  we  were  conducted  to  the  Taj 
Bourie,  a  handsome  tank,  surrounded  by  a  low  but  not 
inelegant  range  of  buildings,  where  the  great  persons  of 
the  court  sat  to  look  at  the  water-exhibitions,  for  which 
the  tank  was  constructed.  We  walked  through  a  fine 
park,  once  a  garden — but  now,  more  pleasingly  to  our 
eyes — covered  with  fine  trees  and  verdure;  and  beyond  it 
we  found  a  monument  erected  to  a  daughter  of  Aurung- 
zebe,  the  conqueror  of  Beejapoor.  It  is  of  white  marble, 
brought  from  Delhi,  and  the  only  marble  monument  we 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  467 

have  seen  here.  We  were  told  that  the  princess  became 
enamoured  of  the  famous  Mahratta  chief,  Sevajee,  during 
his  visit  to  Delhi ;  that  Aurungzebe  offered  her  to  him 
in  marriage,  on  condition  of  his  becoming  a  Mussulman; 
that  he  rejected  the  condition;  that  the  princess,  in  con- 
sequence, rejected  all  offers  of  marriage,  and  died  single, 
hi  this  city,  three  years  after  the  conquest.  The  tomb  is 
not  otherwise  remarkable ;  but  any  proof  of  natural  affec- 
tion in  a  merciless  barbarian,  has  the  effect  of  a  green 
spot  in  a  wilderness.  Near  were  two  elegant  monuments; 
one  of  a  Mussulman  saint  or  peer;  another  of  a  virgin  of 
Beejapoor  —  two  personages  who  had  probably  little 
intercourse  during  life. 

"  About  five,  we  visited  the  subahdar  at  a  most  miser- 
able house,  and  were  received  into  a  verandah  not  much 
handsomer  than  those  which  may  be  seen  in  the  street  at 
Mahim.  There  was,  however,  a  little  mimicry  of  state. 
A  coarse  Surat  cloth  was  laid  over  the  floor,  and  towards 
the  centre  a  little  scarlet  cushion  was  placed  against  the 
wall,  upon  an  old  bit  of  Persian  carpet  about  a  foot  square. 
There  I  was  seated,  and  I  was  obliged  to  undergo  a  nautch 
(or  exhibition  of  dancing  girls).  It  seemed  to  me  like  all 
the  others  I  have  seen,  abominably  tiresome.  Nothing 
was  ever  so  ridiculously  exaggerated.  Amadis  de  Gaul 
has  no  such  deviation  from  the  truth  of  manners  as  the 
description  of  dancing  girls  in  that  notorious  romancer, 
Raynal.  The  girls  who  exhibited  this  afternoon,  I  thought 
rather  handsomer  than  usual.  The  eyebrows  of  one  were 
very  fine,  which  Captain  Hamilton  says  is  a  common 
beauty.  The  feet  of  all  were  slender  enough  to  account 
for  the  delicate  limbs  of  the  half-caste  ladies.  There 
certainly  is  some  grace  in  the  pastimes  and  slow  move- 
ments, as  indeed  the  Indian  women  are  naturally  graceful; 
but  their  languor  seems  to  be  mere  lethargy,  and  their 
gay  song  a  shrill  scream.  Nothing  in  the  exhibition 


468  LIFE   OF   THE  [1808. 

deserves,  in  my  opinion,  the  name  of  voluptuous,  in  any 
sense  of  the  word,  pure  or  impure.  I  think  it  unmixed 
dulness. 

"We  returned  to  our  tents  most  thoroughly  tired,  and 
are  now  making  arrangements  for  recommencing  our 
journey  to-morrow  morning,  with  fifty  Mahratta  Seapoys, 
which  the  subahdar  gives  me  as  a  guard  to  the  frontier. 

"Beejapoor  was  the  capital  of  a  kingdom  which,  in  its 
most  flourishing  state,  never  extended  further  than  from 
Goa  to  Calberga,  and  from  near  Poonah  to  the  Tombudra. 
Those  who  told  Major  Moor  that  it  once  contained  near 
a  million  of  houses,  made  rather  a  bold  experiment  on  the 
credulity  of  a  stranger.  They  told  him  at  the  same  time, 
that  the  circuit  of  the  city  walls  was  a  day's  journey. 
Now,  as  twenty-five  miles  may  be  considered  as  a  long 
day's  journey,  this  account  of  Beejapoor  makes  its  circuit 
to  have  been  not  more  than  that  of  London  j  and  as  there 
were  such  large  vacancies  in  gardens,  mosques,  palaces, 
&c.,  it  cannot  have  been  as  populous  as  London.  Its 
population  may  be  probably  guessed  at  four  or  five  hun- 
dred thousand;  and  the  difficulty  seems  to  be,  how  a 
kingdom  of  no  larger  extent  or  greater  resources,  could 
have  produced  a  capital,  so  splendid  and  well  peopled. 
The  government  in  tropical  countries  may  undoubtedly 
take  a  much  larger  proportion  of  the  produce  of  the  soil, 
without  ruin,  than  in  colder  climates,  because  the  neces- 
sary wants  of  the  inhabitants  are  so  much  fewer.  Cloth- 
ing, fire,  and  habitation — articles  of  such  great  expense 
in  Europe,  are  here  trifling;  superstition,  too,  probably 
influenced  by  climate,  has  confined  them  to  the  cheapest 
food.  As  the  government's  share  of  the  produce  may  be 
larger  than  in  Europe,  so  the  modes  in  which  the  sove- 
reign and  his  chiefs  expend  it,  are  much  less  various. 
Except  the  pay  and  support  of  military  adherents,  the 
whole  current  expense  of  an  Indian  chief  may  be  referred 


1808.]  EIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  469 

to  his  stable  and  zenana ;  and  considering  the  necessarily 
small  expenditure  of  women  imprisoned,  it  is  probable 
that,  some  acts  of  capricious  bounty  to  favourites  excepted, 
the  expense  of  the  largest  zenana  falls  far  short  of  any 
calculation  made  on  European  ideas.  All  that  remains  of 
the  surplus  income  of  the  country  could  only  have  been 
spent  in  buildings,  and  that  hi  the  capital,  for  there  was 
no  other  considerable  town.  The  vanity  of  wealth,  which 
takes  a  thousand  fantastic  forms  in  Europe,  could  here 
assume  only  one  form.  The  erection  of  mosques  and 
monuments  was  the  only  way  in  which  the  rich  man  could 
display  his  riches,  and  leave  behind  him  a  name.  Though 
the  great  men  were  likely  to  have  been  extremely  super- 
stitious, and  perpetrated  atrocities  enough  to  quicken  their 
superstition  by  remorse,  yet  we  must  not  ascribe  these 
buildings  to  superstition  alone,  but  to  the  desire  of  popu- 
larity, the  parade  of  wealth,  the  desire  of  courting  the 
favour  of  the  sovereign,  the  love  of  fame,  and  every  other 
passion  which  could  wear  the  disguise  of  the  prevalent 
principle  or  predominant  fashion.  In  this  manner  there 
seems  no  difficulty  in  accounting  for  the  splendour  of  a 
town,  which  the  whole  plunder  of  this  and  the  neigh- 
bouring countries  was  employed  to  adorn. 

"  The  subahdar  informed  us,  that  within  these  twenty 
years  this  city  contained  five  or  six  thousand  inhabited 
houses,  or  perhaps  near  thirty  thousand  inhabitants,  but 
that  at  present  the  houses  and  people  were  reduced  to 
one  sixth.  So  gross  is  the  ignorance  prevalent  here,  that 
there  were  offerings  of  flowers,  &c.  before  the  monuments 
of  Ibrahim  Adil  Shah,  which  the  Koran  would  doubtless 
condemn  as  idolatrous;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  our 
Hindu"  servants  offered  their  devotions  before  this  Maho- 
metan shrine.  On  Captain  Hamilton's  reminding  them 
that  this  was  a  Mussulman  building,  they  replied  '  that 
it  was,  notwithstanding,  the  residence  of  a  God.'  So 

VOL.  I.  40 


470  LIFE    OF   THE  [1808. 

easily  can  the  most  stupid  ignorance  mimic  the  acts  of 
liberality ! 

"  I  felt  nothing  of  the  usual  sentiments  inspired  by 
ruins,  in  contemplating  those  of  Beejapoor.  We  in 
general,  on  such  occasions,  feel  a  reverential  melancholy, 
and  are  lifted  above  the  present  time  and  circumstances. 
But  these  sentiments  are  produced  by  the  view  of  ruined 
cities,  which  were  the  scenes  of  what  is  venerable  or  inter- 
esting to  us.  With  these  feelings  we  consider  Athens  or 
Rome.  But  here  we  see  the  triumph  of  force  over  force, 
and  the  buildings,  of  which  we  observe  the  ruins,  were 
never  the  scenes  of  any  other  qualities  than  those  of  trea- 
chery, debauchery,  and  cruelty, — of  war  without  science, 
or  generous  humanity — and  of  pleasures,  if  they  deserve 
the  name,  without  elegance  or  love. 

"I  know  of  no  writer  but  Mahomet  Cassim  Ferishta, 
the  celebrated  historian,  who  lived  in  this  city.  He  was 
a  Persian,  originally  in  the  service  of  the  king  of  Ahmed- 
nuggar,  who  made  his  escape  from  a  massacre  of  foreigners, 
and  entered  into  the  service  of  Ibrahim  Adil  Shah,  at 
Beejapoor.  He  wrote  about  the  time  of  Camden,  and 
was,  perhaps,  not  very  inferior  to  that  laborious  writer. 
Hafiz  was  invited  to  the  Court  of  Beejapoor,  but  got  so 
sick  on  board  ship  that  he  relanded,  and  returned  to  drink 
his  shirauz.  He  afterwards  wrote  an  ode  against  the  folly 
of  crossing  the  seas  in  search  of  wealth,  which  I  ought 
to  have  read  and  considered  in  1803. 

"  27th.  Sunday. — Beejapoor  toNaghtana,  eleven  miles. 

" — Left  Beejapoor  about  half-past  six — rode  two  miles 
through  the  fort,  after  leaving  which  we  plunge  imme- 
diately into  a  jungle.  We  continue  to  admire  the  domes, 
especially  the  majestic  Burra  Gumbuz,  for  about  five 
miles,  till  we  lose  sight  of  it  at  a  ruined  village  called 
Allahabad.  We  met  several  persons  with  loaded  bul- 
locks, which  we  supposed  to  be  a  sign  of  security ;  but 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  471 

on  our  arrival  at  Naghtana,  about  ten  o'clock,  we  found 
that  they  were  fugitives  from  this  and  the  next  village, 
seeking  refuge  at  Beejapoor  from  an  army  of  three  thou- 
sand men,  sent  by  Bapu  Gokla,  to  collect  his  arrears. 
The  chief  of  the  two  villages  has,  it  seems,  withheld  pay- 
ment of  rent  for  some  years,  and  has  not  quite  respected 
the  rights  of  neutrality  in  passengers.  Some  of  his 
'orders  in  council'  rendered  this  road  rather  less  secure 
than  it  ought  to  have  been.  He  has  now,  with  his  family, 
betaken  himself  to  the  jungle.  His  garrison  here  refuse  all 
intercourse  with  us ;  and  as  some  of  the  emigrants  to  the 
jungle  may  have  no  very  sacred  regard  to  the  rights  of 
property,  we  shall  go  on  to  the  next  village  in  an  hour  or 
two,  to  accelerate  our  escape  from  this  miserable  country. 

u  A  little  to  the  south-east,  a  body  of  Bered,  the  ban- 
ditti of  whom  I  formerly  spoke,  have  established  them- 
selves at  Shurapore,  and  occupy  a  considerable  district. 
They  are  raised  from  a  gang  into  a  sort  of  state,  and 
instead  of  paying  rent,  levy  '  chout,'  or  a  fourth,*  on  the 
neighbouring  districts.  In  short,  they  now  are  what  the 
Mahrattas  were  one  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago.  Their 
chief  is  Yencoba  Naik,  an  usurper  among  robbers,  who 
has  expelled  or  deposed  the  hereditary  chiefs,  and  defeated 
one  Timopa,  a  rival  in  the  pursuit  of  power.  This  man 
is  said  to  have  a  strong  country,  several  forts,  and  a  force 
of  five  thousand  men,  with  artillery.  Beyond  him,  near 
the  junction  of  the  Bema  and  Kristna,  is  another  chief, 
called  the  Rajah  of  Gudwal,  who  avails  himself  of  the 
general  anarchy  to  withhold  payment  of  his  tribute  to  the 
Peshwa  and  the  Nizam.  He  is -of  the  dunghar  caste; 
his  family  is  called  Reddy,  and  they  have  held  this  prin- 
cipality for  two  centuries. 

"  Conquerors  are  the  scourge  of  the  west ;  but  the  best 
condition  of  an  eastern  country  seems  to  be,  when  it  is 
*  Of  the  government  share. 


472  LIFE   OF   THE  [1808. 

governed  by  a  prince  of  a  stern  and  ambitious  character 
(which  seldom  exists  without  a  passion  for  conquest), 
who  maintains  tolerable  quiet  and  safety  at  home,  in  order 
to  facilitate  the  execution  of  his  schemes  abroad.  In 
barbarous  countries,  the  want  of  an  ambition  for  conquest 
seems  to  be  always  attended  with  complete  mental  inac- 
tivity ;  as  war  is  the  only  theatre  on  which  they  are  accus- 
tomed to  exercise  their  powers,  a  pacific  prince  is,  in 
the  east,  almost  always  feeble,  and  generally  dissolute. 
His  dominions  become  the  prey  of  the  contests  of  a 
thousand  petty  tyrants.  A  warrior  or  a  conqueror  sufiers 
no  oppression,  but  what  he  supposes  to  be  necessary  for 
his  own  purposes.  The  only  principle  of  obedience  in 
such  countries  is  military  subordination  or  attachment. 
All  power  is  military ;  but  military  power  requires  suc- 
cess to  establish  it,  and  exercise  to  preserve  it.  In  such 
wretched  governments,  therefore,  peace  is  a  source  of 
anarchy.  Military  government  is,  beyond  all  others, 
subject  to  personal  revolutions,  because  it  requires  a 
degree  of  vigour  and  vigilance  of  character  to  maintain  it, 
to  which  no  passion  less  powerful  than  that  of  ambition, 
and  no  education  but  that  of  struggle,  can  discipline 
the  mind.  He  who  inherits  absolute  power  needs  the 
greatest  vigour  and  vigilance,  and  is  placed  in  circum- 
stances which  produce  the  greatest  softness  and  supine- 
ness.  But  though  it  is  a  law  of  this  sort  of  government, 
that  power  should  speedily  pass  from  individual  to  indi- 
vidual, and  generally  from  dynasty  to  dynasty,  yet  the 
spirit  of  the  government  often  survives  these  personal 
revolutions,  and  may  e^en  be  preserved  by  them ;  power 
can  only  be  transferred  to  a  new  usurper,  who  acquires  it 
by  some  degree  of  the  same  qualities  which  originally 
founded  the  government.  Power  is  the  prize  of  boldness ; 
the  contest  is  sometimes  a  barbarous  dispute  between 
individuals  of  the  reigning  dynasty — sometimes  between 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  473 

victorious  generals ;  but  the  boldest  must  prevail.   There 
is  no  species  of  government  which  maybe  said  to  be  more 
often  reestablished  on  its  first  principles. 
,     " — Naghtana  to  Huttergau,  four  miles. 

"  —  Arrive  at  Huttergau  about  three  o'clock.  It  is  a 
walled  town  of  considerable  size,  with  a  handsome  citadel. 
It  seems  we  inspired  as  much  uneasiness  as  we  feli  The 
people  here  supposed  us  to  be  the  advanced  guard,  or  the 
scouts  of  Gokla's  army.  Our  karkoon,  however,  con- 
ciliated them  before  our  arrival ;  and  though  they  did 
not  seem  disposed  to  admit  any  of  our  retainers  within 
their  walls,  they  sent  a  shopkeeper  without  the  gates 
with  all  sorts  of  provisions  for  men  and  horses.  Great 
numbers  of  them  hastened  to  our  tents,  and  peeped  in  at 
us  with  a  fearful  curiosity.  We  ventured  to  ask  them  '  if 
they  had  ever  seen  a  Feringee  before  ?'  They  smiled  at 
the  question,  and  said, { Oh  no,  we  have  heard  of  such 
people  passing  at  Beejapoor,  but  no  such  was  ever  seen 
at  Huttergau  till  this  day ! '  This  answer  confirmed  my 
suspicion  that  no  European  before  us  had  ever  travelled 
the  road  from  Beejapoor  to  Calberga. 

"  Many  patients  came  to  consult  me — some  with  most 
singular,  and  others  with  most  distressing  cases.  I  did 
all  I  could,  and  heartily  wished  for  power  to  do  more. 
The  intercourse  of  benevolence  at  least,  if  not  of  much 
benefit,  between  individuals  of  nations  who  had  never 
seen  each  other,  removed  all  distrust,  and  looked  as  if 
there  really  was  such  a  disposition  as  humanity.  It  was 
something  to  see  children  cling  round  the  necks  of  their 
fathers,  and  sons  carrying  their  infirm  parents  in  pursuit 
of  health.  Men  appeared  to  be  more  like  each  other  in 
the  best  qualities,  than  the  pride  of  civilisation  would  be 
willing  to  allow. 

"  In  the  evening  a  message  was  deli vered  to  me  with 
an  air  of  mystery,  informing  me  that  the  potail  wished 

40* 


474  LIFE   OF   THE  [1808. 

to  pay  me  a  visit.  I  suspected  that  this  was  the  rebel,  or 
patriot,  who  resisted  the  exactions  of  the  jagheerdar.  He 
accordingly  made  his  appearance  shortly  after ;  and,  like 
more  civilised  chiefs,  he  seemed  to  suppose  that  state 
consists  chiefly  in  displaying  what  was  useless.  With  a 
fine  moonlight,  he  was  preceded  by  fifty  torches,  and 
attended  by  one  hundred  and  twenty  men.  The  object 
of  his  visit  was  to  solicit  my  interposition  with  Gokla, 
whose  army,  according  to  the  Mahratta  custom,  was  now 
laying  waste  the  country,  in  order  to  enforce  the  pay- 
ment of  arrears.  I  could  only  answer  with  general  civility 
— assuring  him  that  I  should  represent  his  case  through 
Colonel  Close.  One  merit  he  certainly  possesses;  his 
towns  are  the  first  well-cultivated  spot  we  have  seen  for 
ten  days. 

"28th. — Huttergau  to  Benoor,  eighteen  miles. 

" —  Rode  past  several  considerable,  though  now  de- 
cayed towns ;  among  which,  Indoor,  at  the  distance  of 
twelve  miles  from  Huttergau,  is  the  largest.  The  towns 
are  larger,  and  the  fields  about  them  better  cultivated, 
than  on  the  road  from  Punderpoor  to  Beejapoor;  but 
nine-tenths  of  the  country  is  covered  with  a  low  jungle, 
composed  of  a  thorny  shrub,  called  '  babool.' 

"About  two,  Mr.  Russell,  of  Captain  Sydenham's 
family,  arrived  with  elephants,  an  escort  of  the  Nizam's 
cavalry,  &c. ;  and,  leaving  our  tired  cattle  and  horses  to 
follow  us  in  the  morning,  we  go  on  with  him  to  Manoor, 
on  the  banks  of  the  Bema,  in  this  neighbourhood  called 
'  Nuddy,'  or  the  River.  Canarese  has  for  the  last  three 
days  been  so  mingled  with  Mahratta,  that  the  language 
of  the  lower  people  is  no  longer  intelligible  to  Captain 
Hamilton. 

"Benoor  was  settled  by  Sahojee,  the  grandson  of 
Sevajee,  on  the  grandfather  of  the  Bramin,  who  now  holds 
one  half  of  it ;  the  other  half  having,  as  he  says,  been 


1808.]  BIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  475 

taken  from  his  family  by  the  Mahratta  government.  His 
name  is  Wittall  Bhow,  and  he  is  of  the  sect  of  Vishnu, 
though  the  only  pagoda  is  dedicated  to  Mahadeo.  The 
general  account  of  the  village  constitution  is  again  con- 
firmed here,  with  this  peculiarity,  that  there  is  one  potail 
for  the  general  body  of  the  inhabitants,  and  another 
for  the  Lingaets.  The  koolkurney  had  seen  the  English 
army  when  he  was  clerk  in  the  army  of  Purseram 
Bhow,*  in  1791  and  1792,  but  never,  on  any  other  occa- 
sion ;  and  we  were  the  first  Europeans  ever  seen  by  any 
other  inhabitant. 

"  Beenoor  to  Manoor,  four  miles. 

" — Went,  in  Mr.  Russell's  palankeen,  in  an  hour  and 
a  half,  to  the  banks  of  the  Bema,  which  is  here  about  500 
yards  wide.  Like  most  of  the  rivers  of  India,  it  is  useless 
for  the  purpose  of  navigation,  being  nearly  dry  for  four 
months  of  every  year,  and  an  impetuous  torrent  for  four 
more.  We  crossed  it  in  a  large  and  well-built  boat ;  and, 
about  sun-set,  landed  at  Manoor,  the  first  village  in  the 
territories  of  the  Nizam. 

"  At  dinner,  the  luxuries  of  Madras  and  Hyderabad 
were  an  agreeable  novelty :  and  Sydenham's  cooks  formed 
a  good  contrast  to  Fyzullah  and  Lucco." 

From  Manoor,  the  party  proceeded  through  a  country 
of  similar  desolation  to  Calberga,  the  next  object  of  their 
curiosity,  where  they  spent  a  day  or  two  in  inspecting  the 
ruins  of  that  once  kingly  city.  From  thence  Sir  James 
proceeded,  accompanied  by  Mr.  Russell,  to  Hyderabad, 
whilst  Captain  Hamilton,  with  the  tents  and  servants, 
crossed  over  to  a  point  on  the  more  northerly  route  from 
Hyderabad  to  Poonah,  there  to  await  the  approach  of  his 
former  fellow-traveller,  on  his  return. 

"  December  3rd.  Golconda.    I  slept  tolerably  the  first 

*  The  commander  of  the  Mahratta  army  in  alliance  with  the  British 
forces,  in  the  war  against  Tippoo  Saib. 


476  LIFE   OF   THE  [1808. 

night  [Dec.  1st],  and  about  eight  next  morning  Mr. 
Eussell  made  tea  for  me.  We  had  with  us  bread,  cold 
fowl,  and  materials  for  tea ;  and  the  village  supplied  eggs 
and  milk.  I  read,  during  the  day  of  the  2nd,  Maton 
de  la  Verenne's  History  of  the  events  at  Paris,  in  August 
and  September,  1792.  It  is  a  book  of  no  ability,  and  of 
not  much  novelty ;  but  it  contains  some  new  and  appa- 
rently authentic  information.  The  period  itself,  horrible 
as  it  is,  has  a  sort  of  personal  interest  to  me ;  I  heard  and 
felt  so  much  at  the  time,  that  I  now  feel  almost  as  if  I 
had  been  a  party  engaged. 

"  In  the  course  of  this  day  the  country  improved,  and 
might  be  praised,  in  comparison  with  that  in  which  I  had 
passed  the  last  fortnight.  But,  compared  with  any  other 
country,  it  is  still  ugly  and  barren.  I  slept  soundly 
for  eight  hours  last  night ;  and,  after  breakfasting  this 
morning  very  heartily,  we  arrived,  about  four  o'clock, 
at  Captain  Sydenham's  tents,  under  the  citadel  of  Gol- 
conda.  After  a  most  cordial  accost  by  my  friendly  host, 
he  led  me  into  a  sleeping-tent,  of  such  elegance  and  com- 
fort, that  every  thing  I  had  before  seen  was  rudeness 
to  it.  It  was  a  lofty  and  spacious  apartment,  with  bed, 
carpets,  lights,  sofas,  &c.,  such  as  the  handsomest  rooms 
in  India  would  contain.  It  had  not  only  a  double 
canvas  wall  and  roof,  with  a  considerable  intermediate 
space,  but  a  painted  canvas  wall  surrounded  it  at  some 
distance,  which  rendered  the  tent,  and  all  its  avenues, 
perfectly  private. 

u  I  was  conducted,  at  the  usual  hour,  to  the  dining- 
tent,  still  handsomer  than  the  bed-room.  We  sat  down 
to  an  admirable  dinner,  with  a  party  which  would  not 
have  been  thought  disagreeable  at  the e  Star  and  Garter' 
at  Richmond.  Mrs.  Orr,  the  sister  of  Captain  Sy den- 
ham,  has  an  agreeable  countenance,  is  very  cheerful,  and 
perfectly  unaffected ;  she  also  plays,  as  they  say,  won- 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  477 

derfully  well  on  the  piano.  The  only  merit  in  that  way, 
of  which  I  can  judge,  is  that  she  did  not  seem  displeased 
at  my  entire  neglect  of  her  performance.  Her  husband, 
Colonel  Orr,  who  is  about  to  return  to  Scotland,*  after 
thirty  years'  absence,  has  the  good  humour  and  gentle- 
manlike manners  of  an  old  officer.  Mr.  Kemble,  of  the 
Company's  cavalry,  who  was  appointed  to  command  my 
escort,  is  of  the  Kemble  family,  in  the  city.  He  knows 
some  of  my  friends,  and  many  of  my  acquaintance. 

"4th.  Sunday. — At  six  o'clock  in  the  morning  we  set 
out  upon  an  excursion  round  the  fort  of  Golconda — I 
mean  round  the  outside,  and  at  a  considerable  distance; 
for  no  European  is  suffered  to  enter,  or  even  to  approach, 
this  fort,  supposed  to  be  impregnable,  and  now  destined 
for  the  secure  custody  of  treasure  and  state  prisoners. 
It  is  situated  on  a  rock,  and  the  walls  wind  round,  accord- 
ing to  the  risings  and  hollows  of  the  rock,  in  a  very  pic- 
turesque manner.  It  has  some  resemblance  to  the  castle 
of  Edinburgh,  but  it  is  not  so  grand,  as  the  rock  is  neither 
so  high  nor  so  abrupt.  At  one  place  we  had  a  very 
striking  view  of  it  over  a  large  tank.  In  the  back  ground 
were  the  tombs  of  the  kings  of  Golconda,  under  the  rock; 
and  just  before  them  was  our  encampment.  This  day, 
and  the  following,  were  spent  as  they  would  be  at  an 
agreeable  country-house  in  England.  We  met,  retired, 
dispersed,  and  reassembled  as  we  felt  inclined,  to  talk,  to 
read,  to  write,  or  to  lounge.  The  unfortunate  inferiority 
of  an  Indian  day  is,  that  from  breakfast  till  evening  we 
are  imprisoned  by  the  sun.  Here,  indeed,  at  present, 
the  sky  is  so  cloudy,  and  the  weather  so  cold,  that  people 
ride  about  all  day,  but  I  conceive  with  very  doubtful 
prudence. 

*  It  is  melancholy  to  have  to  note,  that  the  parents,  with  their  three 
children,  were  lost  at  sea  on  their  homeward  voyage. 


478  LIFE   OF   THE  [1808. 

"  A  day  of  pleasant  conversation  is  considerably  more 
agreeable  than  a  day  of  tiresome  inquiry  among  stupid 
Mahrattas ;  but  it  supplies  few  materials  for  a  journal. 

"  5th.  —  Golconda  to  the  Residency  near  Hyderabad, 
seven  miles. 

"  At  six  in  the  morning  our  procession  began. 
Captain  Sydenham  and  I  were  seated  on  an  elephant, 
of  which  the  housing  and  trappings  were  yellow — the 
royal  colour  of  India.  We  mounted,  or  rather  climbed 
up  the  side  of  the  animal  by  a  ladder,  while  he  knelt. 
On  his  back  was  an  '  ambarie,'  or  oblong  seat  with  walls 
raised  up  and  topped  with  silver,  and  with  cushions  and 
seats  of  purple  velvet.  It  was  covered  with  a  canopy, 
and  had  curtains,  which  might  be  drawn  so  as  to  exclude 
both  spectators  and  the  sun.  In  these  last  circumstances 
it  differs  from  a  houdah,  which  I  had  seen  at  Poonah. 
The  seat  in  both  is  the  same,  and  would  be  very  comfortr 
able,  if  it  were  not  that,  as  it  cannot  be  raised  high 
enough  from  the  elephant's  back  to  leave  a  good  hanging 
place  for  the  legs,  the  riders  must  sit  crossed-legged. 
Some  of  the  gentlemen  were  on  horseback  but  most  of 
them  upon  other  elephants.  Colonel  Orr  was  on  an 
elephant  with  a  superbly  embroidered  houdah  (or  saddle 
cloth),  taken  from  Scindia's  own  elephant  at  the  battle  of 
Assaye.  Mrs.  Orr  was  in  a  palankeen.  We  were  escorted 
by  Mr.  Kemble's  party  of  cavalry,  by  the  seapoys  of  the 
Resident's  guard,  and  by  a  hundred  of  the  Nizam's 
cavalry  sent  out  to  meet  me.  Besides  these  military 
attendants  and  our  innumerable  servants,  we  were  pre- 
ceded by  twenty '  chubdars,'  or  officers  dressed  in  scarlet, 
and  bearing  silver  sticks,  who,  from  time  to  time,  pro- 
claimed our  dignity  and  titles.  The  whole  suite  might 
amount  to  about  five  hundred  persons,  and  is  reckoned  a 
very  moderate  attendance  for  a  man  of  rank  in  India, 
when  he  travels  seven  miles  to  breakfast. 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.   SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  479 

"  The  approach  to  a  declining  capital  was  marked  by 
large  gardens  running  to  waste,  and  ruined  country 
houses.  The  mosques  and  their  minarets  in  the  city, 
had  a  fine  effect.  About  nine  we  arrived  at  the  Resi- 
dency— the  most  elegant  house  which  I  have  yet  seen  in 
India.  In  the  front  is  a  very  noble  portico,  formed  by 
Corinthian  pillars.  It  is  sixty  feet  in  length,  and  nearly 
as  lofty  as  the  house.  From  this  porch  you  go  into  a 
hall  of  the  same  length,  and  formerly  of  the  same  height, 
but  now  divided  by  Captain  Sydenham  into  two  stories. 
The  support  of  the  ceiling  requires  so  many  pillars,  that 
the  lower  hall  may  now  be  called  a  colonnade ;  but  the 
columns  are  beautiful,  and  have  a  very  fine  effect  At 
each  end  is  an  oval  room,  thirty-six  feet  by  twenty-four. 
One  is  a  dining-room,  the  other  a  library  and  family 
drawing-room.  At  the  corners  are  four  smaller  square 
rooms,  office,  billiard-room,  &c.  Above  stairs,  the  same 
distribution  is  exactly  repeated,  comprising  a  drawing- 
room  sixty  feet  by  forty.  The  whole  of  both  floors  is 
uniformly  carpeted,  glazed,  sofaed,  &c.  with  English 
furniture,  and  in  the  handsomest  style  of  London.  In 
short,  this  house  is  oriental  only  in  its  magnificence :  it 
is  perfectly  English  in  its  comforts.  It  was  built  by  an 
English  Engineer  at  the  expense  of  the  Nizam,  for  the 
late  Resident,  Colonel  Kirkpatrick.  Captain  Syden- 
ham's  library  is  an  excellent  collection — both  English 
and  French ;  his  stud  can  boast  a  dozen  of  the  finest 
horses  in  the  East;  and  very  few  tables  surpass  his,  either 
in  meat  or  cookery.  '  The  times,'  says  Lord  Bacon, '  which 
are  best  to  live  in,  are  worst  to  read  about.'  In  the  same 
manner,  the  most  agreeable  days  afford  least  materials 
for  a  journal. 

«  6th. — Wakened  with  a  dreadful  headache,  which  I 
ascribe  to  the  volumes  of  tobacco  which  filled  the  room 
yesterday  from  twenty  hookahs.  I  was  ashamed  to 


480  LIFE   OF   THE  [1808. 

own  my  effeminacy,  but  the  headache  prevailed,  and  I 
entrusted  the  secret  to  Captain  Sydenham,  with  an 
injunction  not  to  betray  me  to  the  multitude.  He  and 
Colonel  Orr  very  good-naturedly  limited  their  inhalations. 
There  will  be  less  smoke,  and  I  shall  be  more  accustomed 
to  it; — so  that  in  a  day  or  two  I  shall  do  very  well. 

"  In  the  evening  we  drove  in  the  sociable  to  a  garden 
belonging  to  the  Nizam's  zenana.  He  himself  lives  in 
his  tents ;  but  there  are  a  variety  of  small  buildings  for 
the  ladies,  which  gave  me  a  second  opportunity  of  seeing 
the  manner  in  which  the  princes  of  Asia  lodge  their 
favourites.  The  chambers  here,  as  in  the  zenana  of 
Tippoo's  sons  at  Vellore,*  were  about  ten  feet  square. 
Both  light  and  air  seem  to  be  considered  as  impertinent 
strangers,  who  must  not  be  permitted  to  visit  the  secluded 
beauties.  From  a  German  account  of  the  seraglio  at 
Constantinople  it  appears,  that  even  there  the  women 
are  not  much  better  lodged. 

K  The  number  of  women  enslaved,  and  condemned  to 
perpetual  imprisonment  in  such  loathsome  dungeons  — 
without  occupation  or  amusement,  without  knowledge  or 
accomplishment,  without  the  possibility  of  a  good  quality 
which  could  rise  so  high  as  to  deserve  the  name  of  a 
virtue — is  perhaps  the  strongest  instance  of  low  and 
depraved  tyranny  that  the  world  exhibits.  That  these 
women  are  too  brutalised  to  be  sensible  of  their  own 
depression,  does  not  alleviate,  but  aggravates  the  evil. 
I,  who  know  of  what  excellence  women  are  capable,  feel 
the  full  extent  of  this  shocking  degradation.  Among 
these  millions  of  poor  victims,  there  must  be  some  who 
might  have  risen  to  be  a  Miss  Baillie  or  a  Madame  de 
Stael.  It  is  almost  a  consolation,  that  men  are  neces- 
sarily '  embruted '  by  the  tyranny  which  they  practise. 

*  Which  he  had  visited  the  year  before. 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  481 

"7th.  —  This  morning,  soon  after  breakfast,  three 
ministers  from  the  Nizam  waited  upon  me.  The  two 
superior  were  handsome  men,  with  the  air  of  easy  dignity, 
which  makes  a  gentleman.  I  particularly  admired  the 
nice  cleanliness  of  their  beards,  &c.  The  mildness  of 
their  manners  formed  a  singular  contrast  to  the  ferocious 
cruelty,  which  history  proves  to  be  the  character  of 
eastern  statesmen;  and  it  would  have  been  impossible 
to  conjecture  that  men  so  demure  should  be  plunged 
in  that  gross  and  monstrous  debauchery,  which,  I  am 
informed,  prevails  in  this  city,  more  than  in  any  other 
of  the  East.  These  men,  of  such  gentle,  polished,  and 
decorous  manners,  were  of  the  same  class,  if  not  the 
same  individuals,  who  do  not  scruple  to  cut  off  the  head 
of  a  servant,  when  he  prefers  any  thing  to  the  caprices  of 
a  dissolute  tyrant.  Under  them,  I  am  informed  that  not 
a  day  passes  without  murder.  These  daily  murders  pro- 
duce no  horror ;  indeed,  they  scarcely  attract  notice,  and 
they  are  never  punished.  The  Nizam  is  said  to  have 
declared  that  he  will  not  inflict  death.  The  absence  of 
capital  punishment  in  such  governments,  is  not  to  be 
imputed  to  lenity,  but  negligence.  It  is  not  that  the 
prince  feels  too  much  for  the  criminal,  but  that  he  cares 
too  little  for  the  innocent  person  who  is  injured. 

"  In  the  course  of  the  conversation  they  said,  that  Meer 
Alluin,  the  prime  minister,  would  have  waited  upon  me, 
if  he  had  not  been  confined  by  illness.  He  had  been 
attended,  they  said,  by  Greek  physicians,  (the  Mahometan 
physicians,  so  called  because  they  pursue  the  system  of 
Galen,  according  to  the  Arabic  and  Persian  translations), 
but  that  now  he  had  got  into  the  hands  of  Dr.  Kennedy, 
the  surgeon  to  the  British  force,  and  that  they  had  much 
better  hopes.  They  said  '  that  the  difference  between  us 
was,  that  they  had  formerly  Hippocrateses,  and  Galens, 
but  had  none  now;  whereas  we  had  such  great  men 

VOL.  i.  41 


482  LIFE   OF   THE  [1808. 

still ; — that  they  did  not  advance,  while  we  did.'  Captain 
Sydenham  said,  i  that  they  had  more  of  the  virtue  of 
content.'  They  answered  '  that  it  was  no  virtue  to  be 
content  in  such  matters.'  I  observed  '  that  it  was  right 
to  be  content  with  what  we  have,  but  never  with  what  we 
are ;  though  the  exact  reverse  was  the  case  with  most 
men.'  This  abridgment  of  reasoning  on  the  subject,  they 
pretended  to  admire  very  much. 

"  In  speaking  of  their  ancient  physicians,  an  expression 
fell  from  them,  which  shows  how  generally  they  are 
unbelievers  in  their  popular  religion.  They  spoke  of 
Averroes ;  I  wished  to  know  if  they  had  heard  any  thing 
of  his  supposed  atheism.  Captain  Sydenham  asked  '  if 
he  was  a  Sufi?'  which  is,  it  seems,  the  decorous  way  of 
asking  if  he  was  an  infidel.  They  answered  with  a  signi- 
ficant look,  that  he  was  of  the  '  Muzzabi  Hakeemee,'  or 
philosophical  sect. 

"  In  the  evening  we  drove  out  to  a  large  tank,  about 
six  miles  in  circumference.  It  is  old  enough  to  have 
worn  out  natural  banks  for  itself,  and  is  really  a  hand- 
some piece  of  water. 

"  8th. — The  principal  news  of  the  day  is  the  alarming 
illness  of  Meer  Allum  ('the  Lord  of  the  World'),  prime 
minister  to  the  Nizam.  He  is  of  a  Persian  family,  but 
born  at  Aurungabad.  He  is  said  to  possess  extraordinary 
talents,  and  to  be  an  accomplished  Persian  and  Arabic 
scholar.  He  writes  elegantly  in  prose  and  verse.  He 
was  appointed  by  the  British  influence,  and  is  the  great 
pillar  of  the  government  and  the  English  connection. 

"  The  education  of  an  accomplished  Mahometan 
statesman  seems  to  be  the  same  with  that  of  a  scholar. 
Learning  is  considered  the  proper  qualification  for  poli- 
tical office.  So  it  was  some  centuries  ago  in  Europe,  when 
almost  all  statesmen,  as  well  as  lawyers,  were  churchmen. 
So  it  must  always  be,  when  there  is  only  one  education 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  483 

different  from  that  of  the  vulgar.  It  is  in  a  farther  stage 
of  the  social  progress  that  education  is  subdivided,  and 
scholars  have  one  sort  of  education,  statesmen  another. 
This  does  not  appear  to  be  the  case  in  England,  because 
the  old  monastic  system  of  the  college  is  uniform ;  but 
men's  pursuits  are,  in  fact,  varied  by  their  objects. 
Society  and  business  give  the  appropriate  education  to 
the  statesman ;  and  though  he  ought  to  be  well  informed 
and  accomplished,  he  ought  not  to  be,  and  cannot  be,  a 
professed  scholar. 

"  9th. — This  morning  we  hear  that  Meer  Allum  died  at 
midnight,  aged  about  fifty-seven,  but  of  a  broken  consti- 
tution. The  people  are  said  to  be  full  of  consternation 
and  sorrow.  The  Court  is  of  course  full  of  intrigue. 
There  are  many  candidates  for  the  office  of  prime  minister, 
but  all  so  imbecile  and  depraved,  that  Captain  Sydenham 
thinks  it  difficult  to  decide  which  of  them  is  most  abo- 
minable. He  considers  this  Court  as  a  sort  of  experiment 
to  determine  with  how  little  morality  men  can  associate 
together;  and  seems  to  think  that  the  most  atrocious 
ruffians  from  the  brothels  and  massacres  of  Paris,  might 
here  be  teachers  and  even  models  of  virtue.  The  rapa- 
city, venality,  cruelty,  and  debauchery  of  the  chiefs,  do, 
indeed,  surpass  the  blackest  notions  I  had  formed  of  an 
Asiatic,  and  especially  of  a  Mahometan  Court.  A  transfer 
to  any  European  government  must  be  a  blessing. 

"  10th. — Agreeable  conversation  at  home,  and  active 
political  intrigues  in  the  city,  of  which  we  received  hourly 
information,  occupied  this  day. 

"In  the  evening  Captain  Sydenham  showed  me  the 
zenana,  which  the  late  Eesident  constructed  for  his 
Indian  wife — a  lady  of  high  rank,  the  grand  niece  of  the 
minister,  Meer  Allum,  and  her  beauty  is  said  to  surpass 
her  rank.  It  is  a  square  of  low  buildings,  at  a  small 
distance  from  the  Residency.  It  is  built  according  to  the 


484  LIFE   OF   THE  [1808. 

native  fashion,  and  I  have  been  assured  that  no  Indian 
prince  has  so  elegant  a  zenana.  It  would  be  reckoned  a 
most  beautiful  set  of  apartments  in  Europe.  It  is  situated 
in  a  garden,  and  within  the  court  is  a  parterre.  Round 
the  interior  of  the  court  is  a  verandah,  of  which  the  walls 
and  ceiling  are  painted  and  gilded  with  great  brilliancy, 
and  even  taste.  The  principal  bed-room  is  larger  than 
the  Asiatics  are  accustomed  to  construct.  The  dressing- 
rooms  and  baths  are  exactly  of  the  size  which  they 
prefer. 

"  1 1th.  Sunday. — At  nine  this  morning  Eajah  Chunda 
Loll,  the  second  minister,  came  to  conduct  me  to  the  palace. 
He  was  attended  by  two  or  three  other  persons  of  the 
Court,  and  by  a  considerable  number  of  officers,  with 
about  five  hundred  cavalry.  He  came  on  an  elephant. 
Our  conversation  was  uninteresting,  except  that  he  gave 
some  anecdotes  of  the  firmness  with  which  Meer  Allum 
contemplated  death.  The  Rajah  went  into  his  apartment 
about  half  an  hour  before  he  expired ;  and  even  at  that 
time  he  was  so  composed  as  not  to  omit  any  of  the  usual 
marks  of  courtesy. 

"  At  half-past  ten,  Captain  Sydenham  and  I  mounted 
upon  the  lofty  elephant  with  the  yellow  housings.  The 
rest  of  the  gentlemen  were  placed  upon  other  elephants. 
We  were  preceded  by  a  dozen  led  horses,  by  palankeens 
and  chairs,  and  by  the  horse  and  foot  guards  of  the 
Residency.  Our  position  on  the  elephant  gave  us  a  com- 
manding view  of  the  city.  We  passed  through  a  long 
and  narrow  street,  ill  paved  with  large  stones.  On  each 
side  of  the  street  were  sheds  with  sloping  roofs,  built 
against  high  walls.  These  sheds  formed  the  bazaar  or 
market.  The  walls  form  one  side  of  square  or  oblong 
enclosures,  within  which  were  the  hotels  of  the  nobility 
and  other  principal  inhabitants.  The  height  of  the  walls 
protected  these  houses  from  the  prying  eye  of  the  pas- 


1808.]  EIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  485 

senger.  The  street  terminated  in  an  arched  gate,  which, 
as  well  as  three  others  of  the  same  kind,  from  three  other 
principal  streets,  led  to  a  large  reservoir  of  water.  We 
then  passed  the  i  Charminar,'  or  mosque  of  the  four  mina- 
rets;— a  light  elegant  building,  not  unlike  the  gate  of 
a  college,  but  superior  in  elegance  to  any  of  that  sort 
which  I  have  seen,  except  the  beautiful  remains  of  the  gate 
at  St.  Edmundsbury.  Farther  on  was  the  Mecca  mosque, 
distinguished  by  solid  and  massy  dignity.  The  masonry, 
especially  towards  the  top,  appears  to  be  exquisitely 
finished,  but  it  cannot  be  closely  examined,  as  it  over- 
looks the  interior  of  the  palace. 

u  We  dismounted  about  eleven  o'clock ;  after  passing 
through  two  large  courts,  the  first  of  which  was  occupied 
by  a  guard-house,  and  the  second  by  apartments  for 
inferior  attendants,  we  were  conducted  into  the  hall  of 
audience.  The  distribution  of  the  palace  is  unlike  that 
of  western  buildings.  There  properly  is  no  one  palace, 
but  a  series  of  open  pavilions,  divided  by  gardens  and 
reservoirs  of  water.  The  gardens  are  pretty  much  in, 
what  used  to  be  called,  the  French  taste,  and  undoubtedly 
the  only  one  suitable  to  gardens  mixed  with  buildings. 
The  hall  was  supported  by  four  or  five  rows  of  wooden 
pillars,  painted  and  gilt.  The  ceiling  was  covered  with 
muslin  so  as  somewhat  to  resemble  our  beds,  and  over 
the  carpeting  on  the  floor  was  white  cotton  cloth.  As 
soon  as  we  reached  the  carpeting  we  took  off  our  shoes, — 
the  oriental  mark  of  respect,  and  one  which  seems  natural 
enough,  as  it  is  the  taking  off  that  part  of  dress  most 
likely  to  be  soiled,  and  therefore  most  unfit  to  enter  a 
house.  To  uncover  the  head  is  also  a  natural  mark  of 
respect,  because  the  head  is  the  most  dignified  part  of  the 
body.  As  the  feet  are  most  apt  to  be  cold,  the  uncovering 
of  them  would  naturally  be  abandoned  in  cold  climates ; 
and  perhaps  the  effect  of  uncovering  the  head,  in  showing 

41* 


486  LIFE   OF   THE  [1808. 

the  expression  of  the  face  in  conversation,  contributed  to 
the  adoption  of  that  custom  in  countries  where  social 
intercourse  is  free,  and  an  important  part  of  the  enjoy- 
ment of  life. 

"  We  were  received  at  the  entrance  of  the  hall  by 
Muneer-ul-Mulk,   son-in-law  of  the    deceased   minister. 
We  seated  ourselves  for  a  few  minutes  with  him.  and 
some    others   of  the    grandees,  when  we  rose    on  the 
approach   of   the   Subahdar*    being    announced.      On 
Captain  Sydenham  presenting  me  to  his  Highness,  he 
embraced  me  very  politely,  and  begged  me  to  sit  down. 
He  was  seated  on  a  musnud,  which  was  composed  by  the 
arrangement  of  a  few  pillows  and  cushions  on  the  carpet. 
The  constraint  of  sitting   cross-legged  was  here  much 
increased  by  the  honour  which  the  Subahdar  did  me,  of 
requesting  me  to  come  very  near  the  musnud,  and  by  the 
absolute  necessity  of  not  touching  it,  which  would  have 
been  a  dreadful  act  of  rudeness   and   almost  outrage. 
4-fter  a  few  general  compliments,  I  asked  Captain  Syden- 
ham whether  they  followed  here  the  rule  of  European 
politeness,  which  requires  one  to  follow,  not  to  lead,  the 
conversation  with  a  person  of  such  superior  rank.     He 
told  me  that  the  rule  was  the  same,  but  that  the  incapa- 
city of  the  Subahdar  to  suggest  topics  of  discourse  made 
it  necessary  to  depart  from  it.    His  countenance,  indeed, 
is  vacant  and  common — not  to  say  vulgar.     Like  most 
other  eastern  princes,  he  had  been  a  prisoner  till  he 
became  a  sovereign ;  and  though  we  ventured  once  or 
twice  to  open  a  new  vein,  we  had  very  little  in  answer 
beyond, ( Blessed  be  God.'     It  did  not  seem  that  this 
was  owing  to  the  restraints  of  policy  or  decorum. 

"Captain   Sydenham   requested  a  private  audience, 
and  we  were  led  into  a  closet,  behind  the  hall,  with  four 
large  folding  doors,  the  walls  covered  with  mirrors,  and 
*  The  Nizam,  or  Subahdar  of  the  Deckan. 


1808.]  RIGHT  HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  487 

the  ceiling  with  glass  in  small  panes.  All  the  attendants 
of  the  Court  surrounded  the  doors.  They  looked  in, 
and  their  noise  was  almost  as  great  as  that  of  the  bazaar. 
This  forms  a  strange  contrast  with  the  stately  silence 
of  an  eastern  grandee,  and  the  permission  of  it  would 
scarcely  be  intelligible,  if  this  noise  were  not  considered 
as  the  mark  of  that  numerous  retinue  which  is  the  dis- 
tinctive character  of  rank  in  India.  At  the  private 
audience,  Captain  Sydenham  condoled  with  the  Su- 
bahdar  on  the  death  of  Meer  Allum.  His  Highness 
spoke  of  that  minister  in  the  highest  terms  of  com- 
mendation, but  did  not  lead  the  conversation  to  the 
appointment  of  a  successor,  as  it  was  expected  he  would 
have  done.  He  tied  round  my  hat  a  band  of  jewels, 
and  placed  in  front  a  plume  of  them,  with  a  clasp  for 
holding  a  plume  of  feathers.  He  tied  on  bracelets  and 
armlets,  and  a  sort  of  necklace.  The  largest  stones  were 
emeralds ;  they  were  surrounded  by  small  diamonds  and 
pearls,  and  a  few  rubies ;  they  were  set  in  gold.  They 
were  in  general  poor  stones,  ill  set.  The  whole  value 
amounted  to  about  a  thousand  guineas.  After  about  an 
hour  and  a  half  of  intolerable  constraint  in  cross-legged 
sitting,  we  were  released,  and  returned  home  by  a  longer 
road,  which  gave  me  an  opportunity  of  seeing  more  of 
the  city ;  it  was  only  more  of  the  same  sort.  Several  of 
the  hotels  of  the  nobility  form  inclosures  of  great  extent. 
The  street-front  of  some  of  them  is  perhaps  three  times 
the  length  of  that  of  Burlington  House.  Our  visit 
seemed  a  great  show ;  the  whole  population  poured  out 
to  see  it. 

"  On  my  return,  I  found  a  letter  from  Bombay,  which 
refreshed  me  after  the  fatigue  of  the  morning ;  and  in 
the  afternoon  I  relinquished  my  short-lived  splendour, 
by  giving  to  Captain  Sydenham,  for  the  use  of  the  Com- 
pany, the  jewels  which  I  had  received.  He  had  made 


488  LIFE   OF   THE  [1808. 

presents  for  me  to  the  Nizam  and  his  ministers.  The 
presents  nearly  balance  each  other  at  the  end  of  the 
year,  though  not  in  every  particular  instance. 

"  12th.  —  The  candidates  for  the  office  of  Prime 
Minister  are  Muneer-ul-Mulk*  and  Shere-ad-Dowlah — 
neither  of  them  able — the  last  a  very  handsome  young 
man,  but  said  to  be  very  worthless.  Every  hour  brings 
us  news  of  the  progress  of  their  intrigues,  which,  how- 
ever interesting  to  themselves  and  their  partisans,  would 
scarcely  preserve  their  interest  at  the  distance  of  four 
hundred  miles.  Shumse-ul-Omrah  is  spoken  of  in  case 
of  difficulty.  He  is  a  sort  of  Duke  of  Portland — a  man 
of  great  rank  and  fortune,  to  be  put  into  the  first  place 
merely  to  keep  either  of  the  candidates  of  greater  ability 
or  activity  from  filling  it.f 

"  13th.  —  This  morning  letters  are  received  from 
Hindostan,  contradicting  the  unpleasant  report  of  Mr. 
Elphinstone  having  been  plundered.  Mr.  Elphinstone's 
character  is  so  uncommonly  excellent,  that  even  if  his 
mission  were  less  important,  I  should  feel  a  strong 
interest  in  his  security  and  comfort. 

"In  the  forenoon  I  had  a  visit  from  the  cauzee  of 
Hyderabad,  a  respectable  old  man,  between  sixty  and 
seventy  years  of  age,  born  in  Rohilcund,  but  of  an  Af- 
ghaun  tribe  originally  settled  at  Peshawer.  He  described 
his  duties  to  be,  to  investigate  all  criminal  charges ;  to 
determine  whether  the  facts  were  proved ;  to  ascertain 
the  punishment  provided  by  the  law ;  and  to  prepare  the 
'  fetwa,'  or  sentence,  which  was  to  be  afterwards  signed 
and  sealed  by  the  two  mufties.  He  had  similar  duties 
in  all  civil  disputes.  But  he  afterwards  said  that  this  was 
a  description  only  of  what  ought  to  be — not  of  what  was; 


*  This  person  was  eventually  raised  to  the  office. 

f  Alluding  to  the  existing  ministerial  arrangements  at  home. 


1808.]  EIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  489 

that  in  reality  his  office  was  almost  nominal ;  that  he  had 
sent  one  or  two  fetwas  to  the  mufties,  who  answered '  that 
God  knew  on  which  side  justice  was — that  they  knew 
nothing  of  the  matter,  and  would  not  run  the  risk  of 
doing  wrong  by  signing  or  sealing  any  j  udgments.'  Crimes 
are  unpunished,  and  civil  disputes  are  either  compro- 
mised, or  determined  by  the  Punchaet — the  institution 
which  has  preserved  society  from  total  shipwreck  in 
India. 

"  The  population  of  Hyderabad  is  variously  stated  at 
eight,  four,  and  two  hundred  thousand.  The  first  is  a 
monstrous  exaggeration.  As  the  circuit  is  only  five 
miles,  and  that  space  contains  large  courts  and  gardens, 
and  even  some  corn-fields,  the  smallest  estimate  is  the 
most  likely  to  be  correct.  An  anarchy  so  complete,  in 
so  large  a  city,  is  almost  inconceivable  to  an  European 
understanding. 

"We  had  afterwards  a  visit  from  a  syed  of  Shirauz,  an 
eminent  Persian  poet,  who  came  here  lately  to  see  his 
relation,  Meer  Allum,  and  who  returns  next  month  to 
Persia.  He  is  an  old  man,  very  lively  and  polished. 
I  was  surprised  to  find  that  they  had  separate  words  for 
versifier  and  poet,  which  they  distinguished  as  much  as  we 
do.  He  said  'that  none  of  their  modern  poets  were  equal 
to  the  ancient,  but  that  some  had  real  merit,'  which  might 
be  said  as  truly  in  England  as  in  Persia.  Excellent 
poems  were,  he  said,  instantly  copied,  and  spread  through- 
out the  kingdom.  The  first  of  living  poets  he  represented 
to  be  the  Futty  Ali  Khan,  who  lives  at  court,  and  who  is 
suspected  of  dressing  up  the  poems  published  under  the 
name  of  the  King.  We  conversed  much  about  the  poli- 
tical situation  of  Persia  and  India.  I  told  him  'that 
Buonaparte  would  save  a  province  from  Russia,  only  in 
order  to  take  the  whole  kingdom  to  himself.'  He  said, 
'  he  hoped  the  Persians  were  too  wise  for  that.'  I  told 


490  LIFE    OF    THE  [1808. 

him  '  that  lie  had  duped  very  wise  nations,  and  asked  if 
he  knew  the  recent  transactions  in  Spain  ? '  Of  these 
Captain  Sydenham  had  before  informed  him;  and  on  that 
occasion  he  exclaimed, ' Buonaparte  deserves  what  he  gets' 
I  told  him  of  the  fable  of  the  horse  calling  in  the  aid  of 
the  man,  who  saddled,  bridled,  and  enslaved  him.  He 
said  the  '  Persians  must  be  asses,  not  horses,  if  they 
allowed  Buonaparte  to  serve  them  so.'  He  illustrated 
his  conversation  by  quotations  from  Persian  poetry, 
which  Captain  Sydenham  thought  pertinent  and  happy. 

"  —  Finish  Plowden's  History  of  Ireland,  a  confused, 
unwieldy  pamphlet,  in  three  volumes,  quarto ;  but  a  repo- 
sitory of  dreadful  and  damning  proof  against  the  English 
government  of  Ireland. 

"  My  stay  here  now  draws  towards  a  close. 
&  *  #  # 

"17th. — At  five  A.  M.  leave  the  Residency,  where  I 
have  passed  an  agreeable  fortnight.  —  About  half-past 
seven  take  a  farewell  glance  of  the  picturesque  citadel 
and  tombs  of  Golconda. — Went  on  by  dawk  too  rapidly 
to  make  much  observation. 

"•  I  read  this  morning  in  the  palankeen  Vallancey's 
1 Collectanea]  which  I  borrowed  from  Major  Hemings, 
the  commandant  of  the  Resident's  escort.  I  had  heard 
a  good  deal  of  the  wild  fancies  of  this  book,  but  never 
read  it  before.  At  first  it  rather  amused  me,  but  after 
getting  through  a  volume,  I  was  oppressed  by  weariness. 
He  sets  out  with  great  contempt  for  OTlaherty  and  Keat- 
ing, and  all  the  other  Milesian  fabulists;  he  pretends  to 
reform  their  legendary  tales,  and  to  make  discoveries  in 
the  ancient  history  of  the  world;  he  then  derives  the 
Irish,  with  historical  certainty,  from  Gog  and  Magog,  or 
Gomer  (I  forget  which).  He  makes  Fingal  a  general  of 
the  fabulous  Persian  monarch,  Afrasiab,  and  Ossian  a 
celebrated  divine  among  the  followers  of  Zoroaster.  So- 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  491 

crates  did  not  educate  more  founders  of  -sects,  than 
Bryant  has  raised  foolish  writers  on  antiquities. 

"  —  Slept  pretty  soundly  all  night,  as  I  was  borne 
rapidly  along,  and  waked  about  six  in  the  morning  of  the 

"  18th,  Sunday — under  the  walls  of  Beder,  the  remains 
of  which  I  had  come  out  of  the  direct  road  to  visit.  It 
was  the  second  capital  of  the  Bahminiah  monarchy, 
which,  like  the  Roman,  had  one  capital  for  its  conquering 
period,  and  another  for  that  of  its  decline.  Calberga  was 
their  Rome,  and  Beder  their  Constantinople.  The  seat 
of  government  was  transferred  to  the  latter  city  about 
1420,  and  the  dominions  of  the  Bahminiah  sultans  were 
finally  partitioned  about  a  century  afterwards. 

"  After  a  summary  breakfast  on  the  top  of  my  palan- 
keen, I  received  a  visit  from  an  officer  on  the  part  of  the 
killahdar,  to  whom  I  had  sent  my  letter  of  recommenda- 
tion. I  accompanied  him  through  a  long  bazaar,  to  the 
gate  of  the  citadel,  where  I  was  very  courteously  received 
by  the  killahdar,  a  handsome  man,  and  the  only  native  I 
have  hitherto  seen  with  a  complexion  so  fair  as  to  show  a 
fine  bloom.  "We  walked  together  into  the  citadel,  and  he 
explained  his  complexion  by  telling  me  that  his  mother 
was  from  Khorassan,  and  his  father,  though  born  at 
Delhi,  of  a  family  originally  settled  on  the  frontiers  of 
Iran  and  Turan,  or,  in  European  language,  of  Persia  and 
Tartary.  The  citadel  contains  nothing  remarkable  but 
the  extensive  ruins  of  the  palace  or  palaces,  which,  with 
the  usual  oriental  intermixture  of  gardens,  seem  once 
almost  to  have  filled  it.  We  climbed  a  steep  and  high 
staircase  to  a  very  lofty  hill  or  terrace,  from  which  the 
sultans  co'uld  view  the  whole  extent  of  their  capital. 
We  saw  the  remains  of  several  stately  halls,  and  the 
killahdar  brought  me  into  some  apartments,  which,  though 
in  a  ruinous  condition,  serve  him  as  a  lodging.  A  sort  of 
durbar  was  formed,  with  a  very  humble  musnud,  on  a 


492  LIFE   OF   THE  [1808. 

white  cloth,  or  a  cloth  which  had  once  been  white,  in  a 
closet  resembling  that  where  we  had  our  private  audience 
of  the  Nizam,  with  an  arched  roof  of  a  sort  of  shining 
surface,  which  our  informants  ascribed  to  a  chunam, 
made  of  pearl;  (but  here  I  cannot  be  very  confident,  as 
Fyzullah  was  my  only  interpreter,  who,  by-the-by,  had 
the  honour  of  an  embrace  from  the  killahdar  of  Beder). 
I  was  obliged  to  wait  for  half  an  hour,  till  they  placed 
before  me  a  breakfast,  of  which  I  tasted  a  dish  of  rice 
not  disagreeably  dressed. 

"A  Persian  tutor  of  the  younger  son — a  very  hand- 
some boy  of  ten  years'  old — entered  during  the  inter- 
view to  give  his  lesson,  much  as  a  French  master  would 
in  England. 

"  At  about  ten,  I  set  out  to  see  the  tombs,  attended 
by  the  killahdar  and  his  ( suaree.'  There  are  tombs  both 
of  the  Bahminiah  Sultans,  and  of  the  Bered  Sultans,  who 
dethroned  the  former  dynasty — 

'  And  fast  beside  him  once-feared  Edward  sleeps.' 

This  peaceful  neighbourhood  of  the  oppressor  and  the 
oppressed — the  deposed  monarch  and  the  usurper  who 
deposed  him — has  often  inspired  moral  reflections;  but 
the  nerves  of  ambition  are  in  general  too  well  steeled  to 
be  diverted  from  her  purpose  by  such  moralities.  The 
tombs  themselves  are  in  the  same  style  with  those  of 
Calberga.  They  are  inferior  in  elegance  to  the  tombs  of 
Golconda,  and  cannot  be  compared  in  splendour  to  those 
of  Beejapoor. 

"  I  travelled  on  pretty  quietly,  though  rather  ill,  when 
we  got  to  a  stage  called  Gota.  In  the  route  which  I  had 
received  at  Hyderabad,  I  found  the  stage  beyond  Gota, 
called  'Nurwarra;'  but  at  Gota  nobody  had  ever  heard  of 
such  a  place.  This  perplexed  me  considerably;  but  I  was 
informed  that  there  were  'tappaul'  boys  (post-bearers) 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.   SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  493 

at  a  place  called  Balsura,  about  four  coss  on  the  road  to 
Buljapoor.  I  concluded  that  this  must  be  the  place 
mentioned  on  the  route,  though  under  another  name, 
and  accordingly  proceeded  thither.  The  night's  journey 
was  very  disagreeable ;  I  had  a  most  acute  headache, 
with  sickness ;  the  cold  was  more  bitter  than  I  had  felt 
for  near  five  years ;  I  suspected,  by  the  extreme  une- 
venness  of  the  way,  that  we  were  wandering  from  the 
right  road ;  I  courted  sleep  in  vain.  I  was  haunted  by 
the  stories  I  had  heard  of  unfortunate  gentlemen  dying 
in  their  palankeens,  and  being  carried  forty  or  fifty  miles 
after  they  were  dead,  by  the  bearers,  who  never  thought 
of  opening  the  doors.  One  instance  of  this  was  said 
to  have  happened  at  Hyderabad  some  years  ago,  when  it 
was  necessary  instantly  to  bury  the  unfortunate  traveller. 

"19th. — At  day-break  we  arrived  at  Balsura;  but 
found  that  there  were  no  bearers,  and  that  we  were 
nearly  twenty  miles  out  of  the  road.  I  was  rather  in  a 
forlorn  condition,  but  a  little  brandy  in  my  tea  wonder- 
fully reestablished  me ;  and  I  prevailed  upon  my  wearied 
bearers,  after  some  hours'  rest,  to  carry  me  to  Narrayen- 
waree,  the  next  stage  in  my  route.  Where,  after  a  very 
slow  progress  through  a  well-cultivated  country,  we 
arrived  about  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon ;  and,  to  my 
great  joy,  I  found  post-bearers  ready ;  and,  proceeding 
with  them  immediately,  changed  again  about  eleven  at 
Caustea — slept  soundly  in  my  progress  during  the  night 
— and  awakening  a  little  before  seven  o'clock  in  the 
morning  of  the 

"20th. — Found  myself  at  Touljapore.  After  a  three 
weeks'  ramble,  the  tents  seemed  a  home,  and  Lucco  and 
Kamjee  for  a  moment  appeared  to  be  a  family ;  but  the 
next  moment  directed  my  thoughts  to  my  own  home  ; 
and  I  wrote  a  long  letter  to  you,  one  to  Colonel  Close, 
and  one  to  Captain  Sydenham.  About  four  o'clock 

VOL.  i.  42 


494  LIFE    OF    THE  [1808. 

Captain  Hamilton  came  up,  which  was  very  agreeable  to 
me.  I  could  not  have  imagined  that  I  should  be  so 
helpless  as  I  am  without  a  companion.  Not  that  I  dislike 
solitude ;  on  the  contrary,  I  think  it  preferable  to  most 
society.  It  is  not  amusement, — but  assistance,  of  which 
I  feel  the  want  when  I  am  alone  on  an  Indian  journey. 

"  In  the  evening  I  strolled  into  the  town,  which  is  large, 
but  contains  nothing  remarkable  but  a  temple  of  Bhaw- 
anie,  or  Parbutty,  the  Lady  of  Mahadeo.  The  situation 
of  this  temple  is  singularly  beautiful,  being  half-way  down 
the  descent  of  a  small  ghaut ;  on  the  brow  of  which  the 
town  is  built.  A  flight  of  stone  steps  leads  down  to  the 
temple,  and  another  conducts  from  it  to  the  plain  below. 
It  is  old,  and  surrounded  by  a  square  of  cells ;  in  which, 
my  informant  says,  three  hundred  Bramins  are  lodged. 
I  was  treated  here  with  more  liberality  than  is  usual  in 
places  so  sacred.  The  Bramins  only  required  me  to  take 
off  my  shoes ;  and  when  I  complied,  they  led  me  to  the 
very  shrine  of  the  goddess.  She  herself  was  not  indeed 
visible,  at  least  not  to  eyes  so  profane  as  mine ;  but  her 
shrine  was  heaped  with  flowers ;  and  behind  it  a  gentle 
flame  arose  from  invisible  fuel.  A  corner  of  the  lady's 
temple  is  allotted  to  her  husband,  Mahadeo,  who  seems 
to  be  insignificant  here,  compared  to  his  wife.  The 
Jezoorry  god,  Cundee  Rao,  has  also  a  small  place  in  the 
court  of  the  temple. 

"  I  slept  very  soundly  in  my  tent. 

"21st. — Touljapore  to  Wyraag,  eighteen  miles. 

"  We  resumed  our  old  habit  of  setting  out  at  half-past 
three ;  and  immediately  crossing  the  frontier  of  the  Nizam, 
we  passed  through  a  country,  seemingly  pretty  well  cul- 
tivated and  well  peopled,  though  very  ugly ;  and  at  half- 
past  nine  arrived  at  our  tents  at  Wyraag. 

«  Wyraag  is  a  large  walled  town,  held  in  jagheer,  by 
Trimbukjee  Dingley,  with  nine  dependent  villages.  It 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  495 

contains  1500  or  2000  inhabited  houses.  This  town  was 
appropriated  formerly  to  the  support  of  the  artillery; 
but  it  was  a  year  and  a  half  ago  withdrawn  from  that,  now 
useless,  establishment,  and  granted  to  the  present  jag- 
heerdar,  who  levies  4000  rupees  a  year  from  the  town 
and  lands  adjacent ;  but  what  he  pays  to  the  '  circar,'  our 
informant  does  not  know.  The  jagheerdar,  on  the  same 
authority,  receives  4000  rupees  more  from  taxes  on  drugs 
and  shops,  &c.  &c.  There  are  two  or  three  dancing 
girls  attached  to  the  temple  of  Mulk  Arjoon;  and, 
perhaps,  ten  other  women,  whom  we  should  call  of  bad 
character,  in  the  town. 

"A  party  of  about  twenty  men,  in  Persian  dress, 
called  Moguls  in  this  country,  came  up  on  horseback, 
and  remain  here  to-day.  We  sent  for  one  of  them,  a 
native  of  Shirauz,  seemingly  of  no  high  rank,  but  of  very 
dignified  presence  and  manner.  The  adventure  of  his 
little  party  is  rather  romantic.  He  is  a  servant  of  Maho- 
met Ali  Khan,  an  exiled  Persian  prince,  of  the  last 
reigning  family  called  '  Zund,'  and  the  nephew  of  Kerim 
Khan,  apparently  the  only  good  king  of  Persia.  Maho- 
met Ali  Khan  had  two  nephews,  whose  lives,  by  an 
unusual  merciful  policy  for  Persia,  were  spared,  on 
account  of  their  extreme  infancy.  They  were  kept 
prisoners  at  Astrabad,  from  which  they  found  means  to 
escape  to  Kerbela,  where  their  grandmother  lived  secure 
under  the  protection  of  the  sacred  tomb  of  Ali.  From 
that  place  they  were  sent  by  Bussora  to  Bombay ;  and 
they  are  now  on  their  way  to  Hyderabad,  under  the  care 
of  their  uncle's  servant,  who  has  given  us  this  account. 

"22nd. — Wyraag  to  Looney,  eighteen  miles. 

"  On  being  called  this  morning,  I  looked  as  usual  for 
my  jacket  and  waistcoat,  but  they  were  not  be  found. 
The  servants  ran  in  some  alarm  to  see  if  they  were  in  the 
palankeen.  I  looked  under  the  bed,  and  immediately 


496  LIFE   OF   THE  [1808. 

saw  that  the  writing-desk  was  missing  from  its  usual 
place,  beneath  the  pillow.  I  instantly  saw  that  there  had 
been  a  robbery,  though  Ramjee  had  slept  in  the  tent. 
Fyzullah  was  the  only  attendant  who  showed  presence  of 
mind.  He  immediately  ran  out  of  the  back  door  with 
the  light.  I  ran  to  Captain  Hamilton's  tent  —  fall  of 
vexation,  supposing  that  we  should  be  detained  for  want 
of  money  on  the  road,  and  bitterly  lamenting  the  loss  of 
my  little  MS.  on  Eloquence,  as  well  as  of  this  journal — 
certainly  not  for  its  merit,  but  for  the  sake  of  her  for 
whose  amusement  it  was  written.  In  a  moment  there  was 
a  cry  that  the  writing-desk  was  found.  We  ran  into  the 
field  about  a  hundred  paces  from  the  tent ;  and  found 
it  completely  ransacked,  and  broken  into  six  or  seven 
pieces.  A  hundred  rupees  in  silver,  a  penknife,  three 
razors,  and  a  silver-headed  pencil,  were  carried  off.  The 
papers,  and  other  little  dressing  apparatus,  were  fortu- 
nately left ;  in  consequence,  I  believe,  of  the  speed  and 
boldness  of  Fyzullah,  who  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  thief, 
and  was  upon  him  almost  before  he  could  escape.  Indeed, 
if  the  other  men  had  answered  Fyzullah's  call,  the  thief 
must  have  been  caught.  As  it  was,  he  seemed  just  to 
have  been  interrupted;  but  it  was  not  till  he  had  too 
nearly  completed  his  business.  We  were  a  little  per- 
plexed about  proceeding;  but  determined  on  leaving 
Fyzullah  to  make  a  complaint  to  the  potail,  and  to  endea- 
vour to  raise  a  loan  of  thirty  rupees  upon  the  credit  of 
my  bill  on  Poonah. 

"  We  set  off  a  little  after  four,  and  passed  many  towns 
or  walled  villages. — At  eight  most  agreeably  roused  by  a 
tappaul,  with  a  letter  from  you,  with  the  welcome  informa- 
tion that  conversation  would  soon  succeed  to  this  sort  of 
intercourse ;  and  I  arrived  at  this  poor  little  place  rather 
jaded  and  harassed  about  eleven. 

"At  half-past  twelve,  Fyzullah   came    up,   and  we 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  497 

found  that  his  complaints  and  negociations  had  been 
ineffectual.  As  soon  as  the  alarm  of  a  theft  was  given, 
the  inhabitants  shut  the  gates — afraid,  no  doubt,  that  we 
should  have  indemnified  ourselves  in  the  most  summary 
manner,  by  ordering  our  seapoys  to  plunder,  as  a  Mahratta 
chief  would  certainly  have  done. — Finding  that  Fyzullah 
was  alone,  they  suffered  him  to  enter.  They  told  him, 
1  that  if  he  would  stay  till  they  had  levied  the  sum  plun- 
dered from  all  the  houses  of  the  town,  according  to  their 
custom,  he  should  have  it ;'  but  as  this  would  keep  him 
till  the  evening,  he  refused  to  comply,  and  only  asked 
them  to  lend  thirty  rupees  on  a  bill  on  Colonel  Close. 
This  they  declined,  pretending  they  had  no  knowledge 
of  Colonel  Close  :  and  Fyzullah,  finding  that  one  of  our 
coolies,  or  porters,  had  a  silver  ring  about  his  ankle 
worth  twenty  rupees,  he  was  prevailed  upon  to  sell  it ; 
and  with  this  stock  we  now  proceed. 

"It  is  remarkable  enough  that  I,  who  never  have  been 
robbed  but  twice  in  my  life,*  should  have,  on  both  occa- 
sions, recovered  the  manuscripts,  and  lost  most  of  the 
other  articles.  My  i  gentle  reader'  will  recollect  the 
robbery  committed  on  us  in  the  evening  of  our  return 
from  one  happy  autumn  at  Cambridge." 

With  an  entry  at  Patus — a  town  of  some  size,  not 
very  far  from  Poonah,  to  which  we  pass — the  Journal 
concludes. 

"  26th. — Chinchowlee  to  Patus,  eighteen  miles. 

"  —  Did  not  leave  our  ground  till  five — mounted  my 
horse  at  half-past  seven. — In  about  an  hour  after,  met 
some  camels  with  European  baggage ;  which,  as  far  as 
we  could  understand  the  native  attendants,  belonged  to 
a  captain  on  his  way  to  Hyderabad.  At  half-past  nine 

*  This  was  the  case  a  third  time,  after  his  return  to  England.  A 
MS.  book,  which  had  been  purloined,  was,  singularly  enough,  met  with 
in  France,  by  his  friend,  Colonel  Fox,  and  thus  regained. 


498  LIFE   OF   THE  [1808. 

we  met  one  gentleman  on  horseback,  and  one  gentleman 
and  lady  in  palankeens.  The  military  uniform  seemed  by 
the  crescent  on  the  seapoys'  caps,  to  be  that  of  the  Nizam. 
This  is  quite  an  adventure  on  these  lonely  roads. 

" — Arrived  at  Patus  about  ten,  and  found  newspapers 
from  Poonah,  in  which  there  is  a  most  shocking  nar- 
rative of  the  shipwreck  of  Lord  Royston  and  Colonel 
Pollen.* 

"Patus  is  the  head  of  a  Pergunnah.  It  belongs  to 
the  celebrated  Dowlut  Rao  Scindia.  There  are  forty- 
two  villages  dependent  on  it.  It  has  been  sixty  or 
seventy  years  in  the  Scindia  family,  but  only  four  or  five 
towns  of  the  Pergunnah  belong  to  Scindia.  Some  of 
the  rest  belong  to  the  Peshwa. 

"One  or  two  general  facts  deserve  notice.  In  the 
course  of  one  thousand  miles,  we  have  not  seen  a  de- 
tached house,  nor  a  village  without  a  wall.  The  principal 
injunction  in  our  passports  is  to  supply  us  with  guards. 
These  three  circumstances  seem  to  show,  that  the  inse- 
curity of  this  country  is  not  occasional  or  temporary,  but 
its  usual,  and,  probably,  perpetual  state. 

"  We  conceive  ourselves,  in  common  prudence,  bound 
to  require  a  guard  at  every  station,  though  we  have  a 
military  escort  of  fourteen  soldiers,  and  more  than  fifty 
followers.  With  all  these  precautions  we  have  been  once 
robbed,  and  have  travelled  for  some  time,  without  perfect 
confidence  in  our  personal  security. 

"  All  India,  except  the  British  territories,  is  at  pre- 
sent in  one  of  two  conditions.  Some  part  of  it  is  subject 
to  upstart  military  adventurers — Scindia,  Holkar,  and 
others  of  the  same  sort,  but  of  inferior  note — who  act 
pretty  openly  as  chiefs  of  freebooters,  levying  money 
by  force  or  terror,  wherever  they  can  find  it  without 

*  On  the  8tli  May,  off  Memel. 


1808.]  RIGHT   HON.    SIR   JAMES   MACKINTOSH.  499 

troubling  themselves  to  find  pretexts;  rambling  about 
in  search  of  booty ;  visiting  their  nominal  capital  not 
once  in  ten  years ;  not  affecting  any  forms  or  exterior 
of  civil  authority ;  and  not  much  more  connected  with 
what  is  called  their  own  territories,  than  with  any  other 
district  equally  well  situated  for  plunder.  They  live  in 
their  camps,  and  they  pursue  booty  as  avowedly  as  any 
man,  in  a  well-regulated  society,  can  do  his  most  honest 
occupations. 

"  The  rest  is  in  the  hands  of  more  ancient  possessors, 
who  have  dwindled  into  mere  voluptuaries  and  pageants. 
Among  them  is  the  Peshwa,  the  Nizam,  the  Nabob  of 
Oude,  &c.  &c.  They,  in  reality,  exercise  no  functions 
of  government,  except  that  of  collecting  the  revenue. 
In  every  other  respect,  they  throw  the  reins  on  the 
horse's  neck.  In  their  dominions  there  is  no  police — 
no  administration  of  justice ;  sovereignty  is  to  them  a 
perfect  sinecure. 

"  The  slovenliness  of  this  Journal  proves  its  honesty. 
If  it  were  worthy  a  dedication,  I  should  inscribe  it  to 
her  for  whose  amusement  it  was  written,  and  to  whom  I 
wish  to  dedicate  the  remainder  of  my  life." 


END    OF   VOL.    I. 


DATE  DUE 


GAYLORD 


PRINTED  IN  U.S.A. 


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